


Rogues and Evolution

by CharcoalTeeth



Series: Together, Hereafter [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, F/F, Fight Scene, Gen, I have no idea, I promise, I'm Bad At Tagging, My First Fanfic, NSFW, PWP, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, is there too much plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:54:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 60,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26051470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharcoalTeeth/pseuds/CharcoalTeeth
Summary: Set roughly eighteen months post-Chosen. Not true to canon of the comics, nor Angel s5!After the fall of Sunnydale, the Scoobies have a responsibility to the world to locate, train and guide newly-called Slayers. They relocate to a remote corner of England, with a new team of Slayers and allies, but without some key players. Buffy refuses to become a new Watcher's Council, instead they begin the New Guardian Foundation.As more new Slayers are called, an increasing number of young women are unable or unwilling to manage their new powers. One "rogue" slayer soon becomes many, and the gang are faced with a serious moral quandary regarding what to do with them.Buffy desperately needs to reach out to the one person who truly understands what it means to be a rogue slayer. Unfortunately, nobody knows where Faith is...
Relationships: Faith Lehane/Buffy Summers
Series: Together, Hereafter [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1987690
Comments: 120
Kudos: 160





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. Actually, it's my first ever ANYfic. I've never written anything before. (Always wanted to, but never had the time.) 
> 
> With that in mind, please forgive any waffle or poorly-constructed nonsense. Go easy on me, but equally please do leave feedback if you feel you can. If you like anything in particular please let me know! 
> 
> Cheers for reading
> 
> \---------------------------------------------------

\---November 2004, northern Philadelphia---

The car door slams shut with a little more vigour than Buffy had intended. This is the fourth stop she’s made in as many hours, and she is in no mood for another dead end. Plus, her confidence as a driver hasn’t really improved since her teenage days, putting dents in Joyce’s Jeep. She has not enjoyed her long day spent with the hire car; it had been peppered with bunny-hops out of junctions, clipping curbs, and two (near) emergency braking incidents. The sat-nav she’d payed extra for hadn’t been much help. Its curt directions and well-to-do robotic accent had only made matters worse, in her opinion. Buffy had yelled this opinion at it, more than once.All in all, she is tired, exasperated, and more than a little cranky.

But it’s all brought her here, to a residential area of Philadelphia that has seen better days. She eyes-up the building from across the quiet street; a lone orange streetlight illuminates the wet asphalt and scrubby remains of a hedge in front of the property. Large, isolated drops of rain fall here and there, indicating another November downpour is on its way. Quiet, eerie calm fills her ears, pressing itself insistently against her senses. Buffy can see no other movement to the left or right of her, nor hear anything other than the raindrops and a swoosh of another car as it passes the end of the street. But she can’t ignore her other faculties, her Slayer instincts, lifting the hairs on her forearms and tingling the skin on the back of her neck. This place is not somewhere to let her guard down. With a slight, measured turn of her head, she uses her peripheral vision to check behind her at the yawning darkness where a public park leads into some woods. The sun had set some hours ago, and her instincts are telling her to go explore those woods, armed and ready to fight. _Not now_ , she tells herself, raising her chin, breathing steadily in, and refocusses her eyes on the house in front of her.

This address, (tactfully threatened out of a bar-manager downtown, scribbled down on the back of an old receipt) matches the rusted number on side of the weather-worn front door. There are no lights on inside, and an upstairs window gapes open, broken or forgotten, a thin tumbling down curtain wafting gently in the chill breeze. Buffy steels herself and crosses the road, pushes the mesh-wire gate up and out of the way, tufts of unkempt grass growing long and wild up against the thin fence. The house looks abandoned, or at least ramshackle enough to deter anyone from believing there is anything of value inside.Buffy knows better. Or at least, hopes.

She ignores the feeling of ten thousand butterflies in her stomach, holds up her arm, hesitates for a few seconds, then knocks. It’s the sort of thing she’s overthinking, of course. _How many knocks is too insistent? Gotta keep it casual…don’t want anyone thinking it’s an emergency….Of course,you want them to actually come answer…maybe four knocks was too many…I should just go….Dammit, brain, shut up! Maybe I should knock again…a playful “ratatatat” or somethi-_

From inside, Buffy hears the smash of a glass and a loud bang, instantly ceasing her internal monologue. She steadies herself on her back foot, then boots the old door in straight off its hinges. Scanning the dark living room for threats, she hears another thud and a shout, now, from upstairs; she sprints up two stairs a time and heads towards the noise and dim light coming behind the only closed door, a room at the back of the house. At the door, she braces her shoulder ready to burst through - but instead of causing an impact, she is met with one. The door flings open towards her and she’s knocked onto her side. She rolls down the corridor, then rights herself, flipping up and whirling round in a fighting stance to face her assailant.

For half a second, she sees her stance mirrored by her opponent, illuminated only by the soft bedroom light spilling into the hallway, and both fighters freeze. Buffy’s heart stops, in that half second, she’s sure of it. Then, her brain catches up. She leans back a little, but doesn’t drop her fists. She breathes, “There you are.”  
  
Faith doesn’t drop her fists either. Her hair is longer than Buffy’s ever remembered it, falling down to her midriff in untidy waves. The enormous teeshirt she’s wearing was probably white once, but is stained with sweat and streaks of something that might have been kohl eyeliner. Her slender legs are covered with bruises, but other than that, she looks just as Buffy remembered her. Wild eyed, slightly frowning, and (as she begins to relax her stance) a little unsteady on her feet.

There’s a long pause, as Faith narrows her eyes and peers at Buffy, as if she’s far-away “……B, what the fffffuck….”

Faith was drunk last time Buffy saw her. This time, it seems - and smells - like she’s not been sober for a while. It takes Faith’s brain a little longer to catch up to the situation. “What the _fuck_ , B, you broke into my house?”

Buffy hastily drops her arms to her sides. “I…uh….I heard a smash, and thumping? There was…trouble! I thought…I thought you were in trouble…?” As Buffy stumbles over her attempts to justify her breaking-and-entering, a petite woman with a scruffy blonde bob pokes her head out of the bedroom doorway, looking somewhere between worried and pissed off.

“Hey, who the fuck are you? Faith, who the fuck is this? You breaking shit you better pay for it!” Her speech is slurring, and judging by her appearance in just her black bra and underwear, she isn’t happy about the intrusion. Buffy’s eyes widen, but Faith doesn’t turn around to answer the girl, just keeps her eyes fixed on Buffy as she mumbles,

“Gimmie a sec, Kaz, ok?”

Kaz mumbles complaints at this but Faith ignores her, gesturing for Buffy to follow her as she shuffles barefoot downstairs. It dawns on Buffy that she’s completely and utterly misread whatever sounds she heard - mortifyingly so. She follows Faith through into the bombsite of a kitchen, and feels her face flush a little at the sight of Faith’s state of undress, now with context. A baggy thrown-on teeshirt: first thing grabbed to cover her nakedness, as they’d been interrupted mid….whatever. Buffy suddenly feels stupid and forgets why she’s there.

Faith grabs a beer from the fridge and opens the back door, lighting up a cigarette she’d sourced from somewhere. She resumes staring at Buffy with that strange, half-frown expression, although this time it’s softer - more searching. After a few moments, she takes a drag on her cigarette, then exhales and curls her mouth in a half smile as she says, “Gotta tell ya, B, your buzzkill skills are still completely on point.”  
  
“Faith, I…I thought you were under attack. I’m sorry”  
  
“Nah, I get it. You hear hoofbeats, you don’t think, zebra, you think, horse. Right?”  
  
Buffy pauses, trying to figure out what booze-soaked nonsense Faith is spouting. At the sight of her expression, Faith chuckles, and elaborates, “You hear bumps in my attic, you assume the only possible thing happening is someone wanting to hurt me, punch my lights out. ‘Cos, that’s what most people wanna do to me, right? Thass all I’m really good for. You go to the most logical explanation. Horses. Not zebras. Get it?”  
  
Faith takes a long swig of her beer, and Buffy starts to notice the number of empty liquor bottles and cans that lie around the kitchen outside the back door.  
  
“Faith’s in trouble again, right? What a fuckin’ surprise…” Talking about herself, no longer looking in Buffy’s direction, Faith leans heavily against the door frame and smokes. “Can’t say as I’m not glad to see you though, girlfriend. You’re looking….well, you know…” At this, Faith eyes Buffy up and down openly, tilts her head and curls her full lips into a grin.  
  
Buffy stubbornly ignores the blush rising to her cheeks again and tries to focus on of the kind of home life Faith’s been experiencing. “Sorry I can’t say the same for you. What is this place? And, when did you last see the floor in here?”  
  
Faith’s dark eyes narrow, she flicks her cigarette butt out into the mess of the yard, and as if to make a point, exhales the last lungful of smoke into the kitchen rather than outside. “Sorry the place ain’t up to your standards, B. If I’d’ve known you were gonna bust my door in, I’d have made sure to put the good china out. Why you here?”  
  
Buffy sets her jaw, meets Faith’s somewhat unfocussed gaze and says, “I’m here to talk to you. About the Foundation, about San Diego, about all of it.” Ignoring Faith’s dismissive snort, Buffy continues, she tries desperately to keep any tremble out of her voice “Here’s me thinking you’re safe with Robin, meanwhile he thinks you’re safely with us across the Atlantic. You don’t speak to _any_ of us, and…” her voice quietens now “…for months, all we knew, for all I knew, you could’ve been dead. What the hell, Faith.” She prepares for a tirade, for a bratty comeback or even a punch. What Faith does, however, surprises Buffy.  
  
She stands quiet against the doorframe for a moment, reaches up a hand to run through her long brown waves. Then, she pads wordlessly back to the bottom of the stairs, then shouts up, “Kaz? Kaz? Yo. Time to go, babe.” Buffy suspects Kaz has been eavesdropping as she arrives fully dressed all too-quickly at the bottom of the stairs, looking expectantly at Faith.

“We goin’ somewhere nice baby?” she grins.

She’s met with a blank stare as Faith flatly says “Need you to leave.” There’s a small disagreement, some pleading from the blonde, then Faith gently leads her to the door by her elbow. “Get gone, Kaz. I’ll see ya round.”

As a final act, Kaz throws a glare at Buffy, presses herself into Faith’s arms and kisses her at the door. Faith goes stiff as a board, and firmly, but not unkindly, pushes Kaz out, shutting the splintered remains of the door as best she can.

“I’m sorry for the timing, Faith, really, I’m a dope. I should have called, I was just worried…” Buffy begins to say, staring at the floor, but stops as she watches Faith pull the door open again and stand next to it, pointedly.  
  
She’s sobered up a little now, and, rather than getting angry, she seems calm and assured. She’s calmly, assuredly, kicking Buffy out. “Need you to leave too. This has been…a lot. Gotta think. Gotta sleep. Gotta drink summore. Can’t have you here while I do that.”  
  
Buffy catches herself, internally suppressing her desire to scold Faith, make demands, tell her how she’s wrong. _That’s my problem,_ she thinks, _I act like I know all the answers. I don’t. That can’t be me anymore._ She keeps her voice steady and walks to the door, “Ok Faith, you want me gone, I’m gone. Just know that I’m gonna be staying at the Hilton in the centre of town. I leave in two days - Saturday.”  
  
The drunk Slayer raises her eyebrows at Buffy’s response, but nods and waves her out the door. Clearly there’s been a lot of changes whilst she’s been AWOL; Buffy has money for posh hotels, as well as the fact Faith literally cannot remember a time where Buffy hasn’t felt the need to claim the last word in any conversation of theirs. “Sure. I’ll come find you, B. We’ll have us a nice chitchat.” Crossing her arms, unconcerned about whether the baggy teeshirt is still adequately covering her thighs, Faith watches Buffy as she moves aside the gate and goes back to her car. Before she climbs in, the two Slayers lock eyes and regard each other for a moment.  
  
Once the sound of the hire car has disappeared down the puddle-filled street, Faith retreats back into the ruined house, jams the front door closed, and slumps onto the stairs. She listens to the silence of the empty rooms, allowing it to rush her ears and overwhelm her, like silence always ends up doing. This has been the first time she’s seen Buffy since the Fall of Sunnydale. The battle where she watched a Turok-Han brutally impale Buffy on a sword. The battle where she saw Buffy fall, where Buffy told her to “hold the line.” The battle where she was sure she was going to watch Buffy die. Faith stands, with the intention of fetching another bottle of liquor, but stops - unable to follow through with that thought process. She feels rooted to the spot. Can’t go get drink, can’t go upstairs - not with the too-recent memory of Buffy’s presence up there. She slumps back on the stairs, feeling utterly useless, and succumbs to the tears suddenly burning behind her eyes.

————————————-

Buffy arrives back in the hotel room she feels is far too swanky for her. She exhales, switches on the large floor uplight near the desk, and closes the shades of the enormous window overlooking the Delaware River. Sitting on the edge of her gargantuan bed, she replays the events of the evening, trying to make some sense of the emotion-salad within her.

She’s frustrated; Faith still seems so messed up, even more so than she was in LA all those years ago. _What the hell happened in San Diego? Why the hell didn’t Robin get in touch when she vanished?_ Although this one, she scolds herself for. Wood can’t be blamed. Buffy knows firsthand when Faith puts her spikes out and goes for the big exit, she makes it crystal clear that she won’t tolerate being followed. Plus, it would appear she did the classic Parent Trap move and lied to everyone. Told Wood she was going to the Foundation in England…told Giles she was still in San Diego with Wood. _Figures. She’s smart enough to realise nobody’s really communicating with each enough to catch her in her lie._

She’s concerned; Faith’s living conditions feel so far removed from the clean softness of this hotel room…and she’s clearly been drinking far more than even a Slayer’s enhanced metabolism can handle. _Has she had anyone to talk to?_ Buffy wonders, _Has anyone checked in on her, properly, over the last year?_ Perhaps that Kaz girl was more than a casual hook-up, although Faith’s blank stare and cavalier attitude towards kicking her out suggested otherwise.

More than anything, Buffy is anxious. _What if I can’t reach her again? What if she bolts now she knows I’m in town? What if I can’t persuade her to…._ To what? Buffy realises. Her decision to come out to the East Coast and follow rumours and tip offs, tracking Faith to Philadelphia; it all seemed so logical and straightforward when she’d decided to make the journey. Now she’s found her, though, Buffy’s stomach lurches whenever she begins to consider what she needs to do, and she finds herself with very little idea of how to go about it.

She prepares to go to sleep, brushes her teeth and changes into her cotton pyjamas. She lies alone in the dark, listens to the hum of her air conditioning unit, and stares at the ceiling until the sun rises.


	2. Chapter 2

\---“Norton House” - abandoned RAF facility somewhere on the Norfolk coastline---

Giles reads the message again, his phone in one hand whilst absent-mindedly stirring his tea with the other.

 ** _Have found F (Philly) Not talked yet, seeing her soon hopefully._** Then a series of emojis: _crossed-fingers, pray hands, sunflower, fist, fist_.

Giles grimaces slightly - Buffy knows that using emojis aggravates him, and so continues to do it in every message she sends. Whilst he can’t deny that human language certainly evolved using pictograms or hieroglyphs of sorts, he refuses to endorse current trends of using cartoon vegetables for communication. He places his mug down on the windowsill to respond: **_Please be careful. G_**

As he sends this, he remembers conversations where Buffy chides him about the fact that he still uses a sign off for each message. _“I know it’s from you, Giles, you don’t have to sign it each time! It says your name, right there!”_ and a smirk passes his lips. Perhaps this is his way of getting his own back for her tireless overuse of emojis.

He walks from the kitchen down the short hallway to the small office he’s claimed as his own at Norton House. Situated in an off-shot wing of the old building, he appreciates the distance between his space and the rest of the establishment, purely for noise-control from the hundred or so Slayers who currently reside there.  
  
When he, Buffy and the others had come across Norton House as a potential location for their new venture, he’d been sceptical at first. An abandoned RAF base, long disused and crumbling into disrepair, Giles had been of the opinion that it would never be serviceable enough to suit their needs. That certainly would have been the case, without the significant cash investment which came unexpectedly from a rather shady arm of the British government, who did not announce themselves as such. Giles knew, of course, that the original Watcher’s council was heavily linked to the government in some archaic way, but hadn’t considered the ramifications once their headquarters were destroyed by agents of the First, two years ago. Once Giles had gotten in touch with his few remaining contacts to let them know what Buffy was planning, Robson had spoken to _his_ people, who’d spoken to theirs etc etc - and soon after, Giles was called to a meeting and informed there was a new offshore account ready and waiting to support his new setup. All that was required of him was to deny any government involvement, should questions be asked. He did not argue.  
  
After that, it had all been fairly straightforward. It’s amazing how quickly problems vanish when you throw money at them. The abandoned base had space to house up to fifteen hundred troops, as well as acres of grounds, a separate infirmary building, a great hall, even an old chapel. These were all restored, (except the chapel - this was turned into a two-story gymnasium.) The secure perimeter fencing was reinstated and reinforced with hi-tech security measures, and the local cover story was that the base was being re-claimed for Air Force use. The residents of the small village two miles away continued to enjoy their solitude of the windswept Norfolk coastline largely undisturbed by the new residents of Norton House, so thankfully, weren’t inclined to ask questions.  
  
Which is just as well, as Giles would have struggled to come up with any plausible-sounding explanation. The facts were these:

After the fall of Sunnydale, the Slayer line had been irrevocably altered by Willow Rosenberg. " _One girl in all the world."_ Not anymore. When Willow cast that spell eighteen months ago, all at once, teenage girls and young women around the world had felt a surge of power and purpose. This force was set free upon hundreds of people who had no idea what was happening to them; power that was unexpected and in some cases, unwanted or undeserved. Most of these girls knew nothing about the existence of vampires, demons, magic, and had nobody to guide them or train them.

After the battle was done, the gang was recuperating in San Diego when the seer from the Wiccan Coven in Devon contacted Willow to remind her that her work was not over. The price for winning their battle in Sunnydale was a responsibility to seek out and protect these newly-called Slayers. They had an obligation to ensure their safety, not only for the Slayers’ sakes but for the rest of the world.

So, they had decided to set up the New Guardian Foundation. Buffy was adamant that this was _not_ going to be a new Watcher’s Council. Her brief conversation with the last surviving Guardian had had a lasting impact on her, and she was insistent that their new institution not make the same mistakes of the past. This would not be a stuffy, pompous archaic club of men dictating arbitrary rules in order to control women. No, this would be a community of Slayers and allies working to teach, train and protect new Slayers. And so, the Foundation was formed.

Newly-called Slayers were located by Willow and Nadine (a powerful witch from the Devon coven), they were invited to live at and work with the New Guardian Foundation in order to better understand themselves and find their place in the world. The three basic factions of the Foundation were training, learning, and guidance. Training to fight, learning about the world of demons and magic, and sincere support and guidance where it was needed.

Nothing was mandatory, nobody was bundled into blacked-out vans or stolen from their families. Once their training was complete, if the new Slayer agreed to continue working with the Foundation, they would be allocated a region around the world where they were encouraged to go and live their lives, whilst protecting that area from demonic activity. The idea being that an even spread of Slayers around the world will maintain the equilibrium and relative peace that had been present since the First was vanquished.

The first fifty or so new Slayers were brought to Norton House fairly soon after it was up and running. Minor teething problems were solved simply (notably, the addition of three more bathrooms around the sleeping quarters, extra WiFi routers, and a new supply deal with a local patisserie to deliver baked goods twice week). Buffy, Kennedy and Vi created a training curriculum, covering essential fighting techniques. Willow, Dawn and Giles developed a demonology course, and began the lengthly process of creating their extensive library on magicks and the occult. Rhona, Chao-Ahn and Caridad were happy to take on the roles of “mentors”, sharing their empathy and experience with new Slayers to let them know they weren’t alone.

Xander needed to grieve after Anya’s death, and moving overseas wasn’t something he was ready for, so he remained in the USA, finally taking that road-trip he’d failed so miserably at after he’d finished high school. Robin Wood wanted to continue to fight vampires in San Diego, after hearing tales of large gangs of vamps dominating the streets. In a move that had surprised everyone, Faith had decided to stay with him. She’d claimed she was doing this because “Wood would get his ass handed to him without her”, but Giles suspected there was more to it than that.

So did Buffy, it appeared. Giles knew that Faith’s choice not to accompany them to the UK and set up the Foundation had hurt Buffy, not that she’d ever have admitted it. Buffy had said several times (a little too loudly) that she was happy that Faith had found someone she wanted to stick with. But the farewell between the two original Slayers in San Diego had been forced, brief, and perfunctory, and Buffy was withdrawn and distant for days afterwards.

Giles sips his tea and muses as he sinks into the worn leather of the Chesterfield in his office. As happens frequently these days, his mind wanders back to where things started to go wrong.

They started finding rogue Slayers; newly-called Slayers who abused or couldn’t handle their new powers. Dana was the first; a young woman who was already in a mental institution when she was called as a Slayer, a tragic victim of childhood trauma who was so damaged that she could not see anything other than threats, monsters, and violence. Andrew retrieved her from Los Angeles, bringing her back to the Foundation and housing her in their newly-developed secure wing. Then there was Francesca, a Slayer in Italy who decided her new powers entitled her to start a particularly bloody crime spree.

Three more rogues were located across the world in the next six months, and soon the matter of what to do with these women became a more pressing issue. An issue which would ultimately lead to the rifts currently dividing the Foundation’s core group.

The development of “Safe Camp” to securely house the rogues became a priority, and luckily they had the money and the space to do so. Giles looks cooly across the top of his spectacles out his office window at the building they repurposed for this, the roof just visible over the treeline at the edge of a section of manicured lawn. The electric fence around the building is tactfully hidden, as are the magical symbols carved into strategically placed posts forming an invisible protective barrier. The magic also acts as a sound barrier, for which he is very grateful. He narrows his eyes and sips his tea again. Most of the time he makes a concerted effort not to dwell on Safe Camp, as it tends to remind him of old arguments, and complex feelings of guilt and resignation.

 _The rogues must be contained. It’s part of our responsibility._ He muses, for what felt like the hundredth time.  
 _Yes, but to what end? Life imprisonment? Rehabilitation? You can’t keep locking them up forever. You need a plan. You need help. They deserve better._ His mind disagrees with itself, unhelpfully. Giles looks away from the window, trying not to think of the practical and moral problems that come with his grim new role as a part time jailer. Certainly not something he signed up for, but as with all things, Giles knows that there can be no gifts without payment. The Foundation is a gift.

Three months ago, Wood had called the Foundation reporting a rogue in the San Diego area. A young woman who had, it turns out, been working with a local demon to try and build her own army of vampires. Wood had defeated the demon but needed help subduing the rogue and bringing her to England. Everyone was confused - why couldn’t Faith defeat the new Slayer? That’s when Wood revealed that Faith had left San Diego almost a year since, and that he believed she was in England with the Foundation. Giles would never forget the look on Buffy’s face when she heard that news. It was a complex mixture of anger, shock, and fear. She’d left for the USA only two days later to try and find Faith.

He checks his phone, hoping for another update from Buffy. Realising it’s only been ten minutes or so since her last message, he stands, crosses the room to his desk and tries to set his mind back to the tasks of his afternoon. Meeting with Andrew, (something ridiculous about his expense account for his trips to fetch new Slayers), then a catch up with Dawn to check on her progress sourcing some rare books from a seller in Fiji, followed by some routine training development with Kennedy. Kennedy has showed much progress during her time at the Foundation - her abilities putting her easily as the strongest of the new Slayers, surpassed only by Buffy and Faith.  
  
 _Or at least, how Faith was last time I saw her fight…_ Giles ponders. He glances at his phone screen again. Still nothing from Buffy. _I’m sure she’s fine,_ he thought. But then, with a slight furrowing of his brow, he wonders whether that anxious thought was about Buffy or Faith.


	3. Chapter 3

It’s quarter past nine in the evening when Buffy makes her way down to the dimly lit bar of the Hilton in Philadelphia. She recalls the voicemail passed on from reception earlier that afternoon, left in that familiar husky drawl, “Nine thirty in the bar, blondie. Make mine a double.” That was it. Buffy is still pissed off about the brief message, but gets used to the feeling of biting her tongue and pushing down any wayward desires to start a confrontation with Faith tonight. She’s here to reach out, not fight. Besides, she certainly isn’t dressed for a brawl.  
  
She feels a wave of self-consciousness as she smooths down the front of her dress. Why had she even bought this stupid dress anyway, much less worn it tonight? It was the sort of dress this bar expected of its clientele - sophisticated, glamorous, and obviously expensive. Tight and short on her thighs, deep navy blue with black sparkling details on the sweeping neckline and trim, off the shoulder straps. The dress draws Buffy some stares from more than one businessman sitting in the bar that evening. She ignores the stares, and the awareness that she would have very little kicking ability in this dress and her stupid heels; instead she tries to feel as confident as she looks. She stands up to the bar, looks around for a suitable table to occupy. She doesn’t get the chance to order a drink though, because out of the corner of her eye she spies a familiar frame stroll through the lobby and into the bar area. Buffy doesn’t know why, but her brain instantly decides to pretend not to have seen Faith. Instead she lifts her chin, flicks her hair over her shoulder, and leans forward on the bar slightly. _What am I doing? Why am I sticking my ass out and posing?? …Has she seen me yet? DON’T LOOK -_

“Well shit, B, now I know I’m underdressed but, damn…” Faith purrs as she sidles up to Buffy, who only now turns and “notices” her presence. Faith wears her usual leather pants and shitkicker boots, paired with a black tank under an unbuttoned denim shirt. Buffy realises she’s happy to see Faith in her usual get-up, looking and down for a fraction of a second too long. This makes Faith’s dark eyes sparkle as she smiles appreciatively. “You come here often?”

Buffy smiles but doesn’t take the bait. “Hello, Faith. And wow, colour me surprised, you’re actually here early.”  
  
“Matter of fact, so are you. Guess we just couldn’t wait to hang out.” Faith turns to lean on the bar and looks for the waiter. “So what we doing, doubles? Wine? Shots? What are you in the mood for?”

Buffy knows to tread carefully with her response. Too sharp and she’ll spook Faith into being defensive, and then there’s no point even trying to talk. So, she attempts a compromise. “I’ll take a margarita. Just the one though, two tops. I am so not in the mood for a hangover tomorrow.”

Faith smiles broadly, “Hell yes. Figured you’d be stickin’ to club soda and giving me the beer-bad speech. Glad to see you’ve come to play with the grown ups.”  
  
They take their drinks, then Buffy moves over to a tall table by the window with a river view, Faith follows, and stands briefly looking over the lights of Philadelphia by night. “Wow. Almost looks decent from here” she muses before taking a swig of her beer.

Buffy looks out of the window too.“Yeah, it’s really pretty…can’t say I’ve enjoyed my first tour of Philly. Some of the bars I was told you might be at were, not exactly in the nice parts of town.” Faith refuses to look at Buffy, eyes on her beer bottle now. Buffy decides to press further. “How long have you been in Philadelphia?” she asks gently.

There’s a long pause before Faith flicks her eyes back to the window and replies, “I dunno. Maybe four, five months? Long enough to get that bar job at Sal’s place, but I guess not long enough to stop showing up for my shifts.” 

Buffy tries to keep her face neutral as she recalls Sal’s Bar, where she’d been directed to Faith’s boss in order to get her address. The place was a complete dive; Buffy couldn’t fathom why Faith had chosen that particular lice-pit to take a bar job. She knows she has to try and keep Faith talking though, “Do you…like it there?”

Faith curls her lip and snorts into her beer bottle, “Yeah, the place is a real class act.” Only then does she raise her brown eyes to meet Buffy’s green ones.“Of course I don’t like it, B. I show up, I don’t ask questions, I don’t talk to people. They pay cash and I leave. Advantage being, they don’t ask me questions either. Not much more a felon could ask for.”  
  
“But you’re not - ” Buffy started, then caught herself and lowered her voice “ - you’re not _at large_ anymore, though, right? Angel said he’d fixed that with the police.”  
  
Faith pursed her crimson-painted lips and nodded, eyes back on her beer bottle again. “Yeah. He’s a peach. Not wanted anywhere. That’s me.”  
  
Buffy exhales and sips her cocktail again, trying to think of an appropriate way to respond to that. “You know, it’s…that’s not true. You lied to all of us, Faith. You told Robin you’d gone to the Foundation, and you never told any of us that you weren’t in San Diego anymore. We had no idea where you were, or what happened to you! For what, like a year!”She hears her voice raise as her anger starts to bubble up, so she stops, takes a breath, and looks up to try and gauge Faith’s response. She is not met with the petulant sneer she expects, but rather a pensive look on the brunette’s face and her eyes burning into the table. In fact, _…are those tears in her eyes?_ Buffy wonders.

It seems Faith has no immediate response, or snarky comeback. She just drains her beer and blinks hard, before finally whispering “I’m sorry, Buffy.”

Buffy’s eyes widen, and she holds her body as still as possible, as if any movement might scare off Faith’s responses. Of all the directions this conversation might have taken, she’d never have actually considered that Faith would genuinely listen to her or take her comments on board. “What?” Buffy exclaimed out quietly. “….I mean….what?”

Faith rubs her eyes with her hand, squeezes the bridge of her nose briefly, before placing her empty beer bottle down and leaning her elbows on the table so she faces Buffy properly. “So, I thought I could try the whole, ya know, being an adult in a…..relationship…deal. Right? Robin, he was just so damn _sincere_ about everything. It was a whole new thing for me. Having someone actually take me seriously. That’s why I figured I owed him a shot, so I stayed in San Diego.” She starts to pick at the label on her beer bottle before continuing. “The tip off about the vamp gang was a plus, too. After all that Hellmouth bullshit, the thought of just pounding on some good old-fashioned vamps sounded so good.” She glances through a strand of her deep brown hair at Buffy when she says this “You get that, right?”  
  
Buffy raises an eyebrow, “Never thought I’d miss it but yeah. No ubervamps, no mystical whosits, no hellgods, cyborgs or enormous demons. Just original, dustable idiots. Yeah. I get what you’re saying.”

Encouraged, Faith continues, “Right. So I stay, I slay. The vamp gang was done and dusted in about two weeks, tops, and that was a good time, don’t get me wrong. But afterwards, Robin’s lookin’ at me with those beautiful brown eyes like he sees a condo, fat babies and family Christmas cards in the mix. And I’m lookin’ at him, and I just see…well…” Faith pauses, staring out of the window again “…well that ain’t what I’m seeing. I don’t see anything. So I split. I try and break his heart quick and proper so he don’t feel too badly about it in the long run, I tell him I’m goin’ to the Foundation in England and he’s not gonna be welcome if he follows me.” She shakes her head and her eyes look wetter again for a split second. “Such a bitch, I know. But I really didn’t want him to think there was any hope or, whatever.”  
  
Taking all of this in, Buffy watches as Faith signals to the waiter for another round of drinks. Buffy hadn’t even realised she’d finished her own, and she feels a warm buzz at the back of her neck, but thinks another one probably won’t hurt. She reckons she’s going to need it for the rest of this conversation.“So, why _didn’t_ you come over to England?” she asks, noticing only a little edge of bitterness in her voice. 

This question changes something in Faith. She shuts off that area of honesty just shared, and now she’s back to being evasive. _There’s that sneer I was expecting earlier,_ Buffy thinks.  
  
“Right, cos the welcome mat was rolled out all ready for me over there, I’m sure!” Faith scoffs. “That’s what you need, huh, a walking How-to-Fuck-It-Up guide for all your shiny new wonderwannabes. Why in the hell would you have needed me there, B?” She sounds angrier now. “What possible reason could you have had for wanting me to be a part of that?”

The waiter brings over the new drinks and Faith downs a third of her beer in one swig. Buffy tries to follow suit and just ends up giving herself a slight brain-freeze attempting to chug the ice cold cocktail. She pushes her drink back a little on the table, regains her focus, and looks Faith directly in the eye to answer. The words catch on the back of her throat though - already feeling exposed and vulnerable before she’s even said them out loud. But the margarita buzz helps her, and she stammers, “Because I..I miss you, Faith.”  
  
Both women lock eyes and are stock still and silent for a beat, then another, before Buffy continues, “and whatever you might think…the Foundation needs you. You and me, we’re the only ones who have been doing this long enough to really understand what being a Slayer means. And, I’m struggling to get that across to the others on my own. I don’t want to do it on my own any more.”  
  
Faith furrows her brow a little, shakes her head “But you’re not alone. You gotcha Scoobies, you got Kennedy - figured she was your second-in-command Slayer now…”  
  
“Kennedy?!” Buffy blurts out. “You gotta be kidding! She’s a good fighter, for sure, but…” Later that evening, when Buffy remembers this conversation, she never understands why she does this, but she reaches across the table and takes Faith’s left hand in both of hers as she says “… _she_ is not _us_ , Faith. She could train up for years and be the best Slayer she could possibly be. I could never think of her as…as my second…not like that…” She trails off, the contact between them and her heartfelt outpouring suddenly making her feel weak and foolish. She releases Faith’s hand, breaks the intense eye contact that they’d been holding and tucks a blonde strand of hair back behind her ear.

Buffy composes herself, not looking Faith in the eye. “Besides, things at the Foundation are...complicated right now. We have a problem that isn’t going away. ”

Faith breathes out, seemingly the first time she’s done so since Buffy took her hand. “What’s the sitch?”

“It’s the rogue Slayers. We need a plan for them. Giles and the others want to keep them... impounded like fucking dogs, and it’s not fair. It’s not sustainable, it’s not right. We gotta figure out something more we can offer them.”

Faith nods slowly, takes another swig of her beer. “And, you figured, why not ask the OG fuckup to help fix it. Right?”

“God, Faith, why do you always...” Buffy sighs, exasperated and losing her composure. She finishes her second drink - _where did that go?_ \- then resets, carefully emphasising her next words “Look, I’m not here to fight. I don’t want to give you a hard time. And ‘cos you are the only. Person. In the _world_. Who understands what these girls might be feeling and what they might need. The Foundation has no idea what to do. We need your help.” Faith’s eyes are fixed on Buffy’s. Her face is unreadable, but Buffy knows she’s got her attention. She decides to press her advantage.  
  
“What happened to you, everyone knows it wasn’t just your fault. Us Scoobies, we let you down. If we….if _I_ had been a better friend for you, the Mayor wouldn’t have been able to win you over so easy and use you like that. I couldn’t just let you disappear again.”

Faith is staring at Buffy now, like she’s witnessing Santa show up in this bar and sprout an extra five heads. Her dimples grow in her cheeks as she smiles and lets out a tiny breathy laugh. “Shit. You’re sounding like my prison shrink now - she kept telling me I was just a kid without a support system, it was no wonder I latched on to the first evil asshole who showed me kindness. Never quite let myself believe that though. But here you are, reading from the same songsheet.” She leans back in her seat and regards Buffy through long lashes. “World really has changed, huh.”  
  
Buffy sits back in her chair as well, mirroring Faith’s posture unintentionally. This is why she came here. She has to reach Faith, and if that means her own pride gets trampled in the process, then so be it. “It really has. I have…I mean, I want to. I owe you a long-overdue apology. I’m so sorry, Faith. For abandoning you, for ignoring you, for blaming you…” She feels hot prickles at the back of her eyes as she says “…for…stabbing you…then abandoning you all over again. I have to make sure I don’t fail another Slayer like I failed you. And I need you….I need you to stop me making those mistakes again.”

Buffy watches Faith’s face, wary of any number of possible reactions to what she’s just said. She realises, this is the most honest and _intimate_ thing she’s ever said to Faith. This thought increases the already hot feeling in Buffy’s cheeks. (She decides to blame the margaritas for this.)  
  
“OK.”  
  
 _That’s it_? “That’s _it?”_ Buffy exclaims. “OK? That’s all you give me? Pouring my heart out over here!”  
  
“Yeah, B, OK. You may have only recently come to this lil’…epiphany…but I spent a couple of years in prison therapy talking all this out, not to mention the weird trippy coma dreams before that. Why d’ya think I’ve been so pissed off at you all these years? I’m not an angsty kid anymore, and I figured out a long time ago that you damn well owed me that apology. I’m glad you’re finally woman enough to make it, but yeah, it’s about fuckin’ time. So, I hear you, OK.” At this, she stands away from the table. Buffy does the same, unsure of what to expect next.  
  
“You want my help at Hogwarts, I’m in. I ain’t answering to nobody though, ok? I’m not a good little soldier. I’m still me, I’m just there to make sure these…whaddya call em…. _rogues_ don’t get the same fucked up treatment I did.” She takes out a pack of cigarettes from her jacket and moves towards the bar door. Buffy is stood rooted to the spot, mouth slightly open and eyes round. Faith starts walking. “You coming?”  
  
Buffy is already standing next to Faith outside the hotel when she realises, “Wait, where are we going? I live here…sorta….you know what I mean.”  
  
Faith exhales smoke, leans back with one foot against the hotel wall. “You weren’t kidding about that two drink limit, huh, lightweight. Don’t worry, you ain’t going anywhere. Just thought you could use some fresh air, you were looking a little flushed in there.”  
  
Buffy takes a deep breath in, enjoying the cool, crisp night air. “Yeah, you aren’t wrong. Not just the booze though. I mean, I’m not great with the emotional honesty thing. Guess you really do have me beat on this self-awareness stuff, huh.”  
  
Faith shrugs. “I’m not sayin’ I’m down for group hugs or whatever. I got a ways to go myself. Stuff I avoid, stuff I compartmentalise. Stuff I still gotta live with.”

This brings a silence as Buffy can’t bring her fuzzy brain to think of any way to respond that doesn’t sound patronising or passive aggressive.  
  
Faith finishes her cigarette, stands squarely in front of the blonde, looking her right in the eyes, “What I’m saying is, you _know_ who I am, Buffy.” Hearing her proper name pass through Faith’s lips causes a strange sensation in Buffy’s chest. She hadn’t felt this close connection to Faith since the two of them used to fight vamps in Sunnydale cemeteries together, all those years ago. “You know where I’ve been, you know what I’ve done. I can’t - I won’t - make you or these girls any promises. I don’t know if I can help them. But I want to try.”  
  
Tilting her chin up to search Faith’s gaze, Buffy asks “Are you sure? I know it’s a big ask…leaving here, moving across the Atlantic…”  
  
Faith raises an eyebrow, “You saw enough of my life the other night, B, you really think I got anything to miss here?”  
  
Buffy looks away. “I dunno, a cushy job, swanky house, a girlfriend?”  
  
Faith purses her lips. “I leave town tomorrow, Kaz won’t even remember me in a week. Ain’t nothing about us is good for the other.”  
  
Buffy nods, crossing her arms and taking a small step towards Faith. “So…girls….is that a Philadelphia thing? Or a prison thing….or…” she trails off.Internally, she cringes at how not-casual that came across.  
  
Something flickers across Faith’s face almost too quickly for Buffy’s tipsy brain to register it, but just as swiftly it’s replaced by a broad smile as she hooks her arm through Buffy’s, leading her back into the hotel, “Aaaaand that’s my cue to exit, Drunky the Vampire Slayer. No more twenty questions, go get some sleep, kay?”  
  
Buffy doesn’t complain too much, feeling like she’s been under the emotional steam roller tonight and that she should quit before she says anything else to embarrass herself. They make plans to meet the next day, and Faith leaves Buffy in the lobby. From the moment she’s in the elevator, all the way up to her room, as she gets ready for bed and until well after her eyes have closed, Buffy replays the evening’s conversation. She recalls the physical sensation of closeness to Faith during their heart to heart; how unexpected that had been, and certainly not unwelcome. Back when they were teenagers first slaying together, that feeling had been so exciting and intriguing - she’d never felt anything like it before, or since. It’d been so long since her and Faith had been anything more than civil with each other, she’d all but forgotten. Now, though, as she falls asleep, she can’t think about anything else.  
  
Miles away, back in her shabby, run-down house, Faith can’t think about anything else either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently on chapter 8 of this fic, but thought I'd post the first 3 chapters to see what happens. I'll post the next chapter once I've gone back and edited it for the 10,000th time. Hope you like it so far, let me know.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've updated the tags to include "violence" warning, as I don't want to upset anyone who isn't expecting to read that kind of thing. A shorter chapter this time, trying to build up this wider plot I'm wrangling. Hopefully I've not bitten off more than I can chew, and readers will stick with it. Thanks for bearing with me! :)

_Another one. Again? This is the second this week…_ Willow’s thoughts gradually come back to her as she steadies her breathing, grounds herself by wiggling each of her toes, feels the soft cushion underneath her, then slowly she opens her eyes. The large windowless cupboard designated “The Sight Room” is lit only by seven tall candles, and the heady perfume of sandalwood incense fills her nose with every deep breath she takes. After some moments, she uncrosses her legs and stands, ignoring the slight wooziness she always feels after the spell she’s just performed. The Foundation’s second resident witch, Nadine’s powers aren’t as strong as Willow’s, and as a result, Willow has ended up taking more and more shifts in the Sight Room of late, with the sole purpose of finding new Slayers. (They refer to this process as a “Sighting”.) The magicks involved are complex and ancient, but at the same time the tracking of newly-called Slayers is still relatively new, Willow still doesn’t feel like she’s used to it yet.  
  
This time, she’s Sighted a newly-called Slayer in the north of England, unusually not too far away. _At least Andrew will be happy he doesn’t need to take another six-hour flight somewhere halfway across the planet_ , Willow thinks. She moves down two corridors, then out into the weak morning sunshine, across a small quad of manicured grass into another wing of the old building. She inputs a code in a door keypad, passes through two automatic doors which swoosh and lock after her. She nods at a girl behind a monitor of security camera screens, who opens the final door into the operational HQ of the New Guardian Foundation.

Amongst a dozen or so young women moving around attending to various jobs, monitoring phones or computers, Giles is stood talking with Andrew and Kennedy; all three of them look up at Willow as she arrives. Kennedy’s lips curl into a gentle smile. Willow crosses the room and plants a soft kiss on Kennedy’s cheek, before looking gravely at Giles - “We got another rogue, this time she’s pretty close.”  
  
Giles takes off his glasses, cleaning them with a handkerchief. “Good lord,” he intones softly to himself. “Any damage?”  
  
Willow shakes her head, “She’s hurt some guys, two of em, I - I think they were bullying her? She knew them…” A splitting headache starts to take effect on her and Willow wrinkles her nose. Kennedy rubs the base of Willow’s back, recognising her discomfort. Even with her level of power, the Sightings are often draining on the witch who almost destroyed the world. She continues, “They…they called her names, they held her down and spat at her…so she…she knocked them out and tied them up. She… God, Giles, she _snapped_ their fingers, then their wrists, arms…she just broke them piece by piece as they were screaming.”  
  
Andrew makes a noise somewhere between a retch and a gasp, “Jeez, she went full Misery on em, huh. Maybe we should send someone else to -“  
  
Giles nods, raising a hand to talk over Andrew, “Did they survive? The boys?”  
  
Willow frowns, “I think so. I didn’t feel any death. But, Giles, she’s young. Really young. Maybe twelve? Maybe not even that…”   
  
Everyone falls silent at that. They’d noticed a trend as new Slayers were getting called noticeably younger, but this was the first time they’d encountered a rogue who wasn’t near adulthood.  
  
Giles breaks the silence, ever the pragmatist, “Location?” he asks Willow, as she leans into Kennedy’s arms.  
  
“North of England, somewhere green. Lotsa hills, sheep. I got a name - “Backthwaite Farm”, I think it’s near a mountain. She…she had the boys in a stone barn, it looked really old.”  
  
“Sounds like the Lake District, perhaps. Rhianne, get a search underway for that farm. Bring up any reports of violence or missing girls.” Giles dispenses orders to the nearby team quickly and efficiently. “Thank you, Willow, you may as well go get some rest. Any other details you can remember, before you go?”  
  
Willow ignores the headache and concentrates on picking apart all the fragments of her vision from the spell.  
  
“I think her name might’ve been Laura, or Lara…she’s so angry, Giles. She couldn’t wait to hurt those boys. Feeling all of that from someone so small…it was horrible. Terrifying.” Willow stands now but still holds onto Kennedy’s hand, tighter than she means to.

Kennedy moves towards the door, leading Willow with her, “I got her,” the Slayer nods at Giles. “I’ll be back soon to move out with Andrew.”   
  
Leaving behind the noise and activity of the HQ room, the Slayer and the witch walk back outside and across the quad towards their room in the north wing of Norton House. This is where the Foundation leaders live, rather than staying in the dormitories with the Slayers-in-training. Willow leans against Kennedy as they walk, enjoying the feeling of her strong frame against her own shakiness. Kennedy plants a kiss on top of Willow’s fiery red hair, “This was a bad one, wasn’t it?”  
  
Willow manages a pained smile as she answers, “It’s just so much worse when it’s a Sighting of a rogue. It’s like, all that wrong-ness…I can’t just see it, I always get pulled in and go through it as well.” She pauses, then says quietly,“I _felt_ those boys’ bones break, Ken. They’re just kids.”  
  
Kennedy unlocks their room and they enter, Willow flops straight onto the soft green sheets of their bed, lies on her side and pulls her legs up to lie in a foetal position. Kennedy places a glass of water and some paracetamol on Willow’s bedside cabinet, then perches next to her so she can stroke her hair. She runs her fingers lightly up and down the back of Willow’s neck, knowing this usually helps calm her and alleviate some of the pain in her head after a difficult Sighting.

Willow enjoys this sensation, closes her eyes and tries to forget the second-hand joy she felt through her vision breaking a teenage boy’s hand. The sound of his sobs as he writhed uselessly against the ropes binding him to the chair. The feeling of a grin spreading across her - no, _not_ _her_ face. _It’s too much,_ she thinks, _Nadine has gotta do the next one. It’s too much._ Every time she Sights a rogue, Willow can’t help but be reminded of her own darkness when it nearly consumed her a few years ago.  
  
“You’d better go, baby. Giles will probably have that address by now, and this girl…she needs bringing here. We gotta stop her.” Willow’s voice is getting croaky as she feels exhaustion taking over her and sleep begin to set in.  
  
Kennedy nods “You did great, Will. Just get some rest, I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She leans in and Willow turns her body to meet her soft, lingering kiss.  
  
After Kennedy leaves, Willow sinks quickly into an oncoming deep sleep. She doesn’t feel like she’s doing great. The more rogue Slayers they find, the more Willow feels like she’s created something awful in the world, and it just keeps getting bigger and nastier. As she falls asleep, she thinks of Buffy and hopes she returns to Norton House soon. _  
  
  
_


	5. Chapter 5

The jumbo jet touches down into a dark, storm-battered and thoroughly miserable-looking Heathrow airport. Faith peers out of the plane window streaked with rain to the point where she can barely make out the roving airport vehicles or even the main terminal building. For the first time in her life, she misses California. “Man, why the hell did you guys pick a country with weather this shitty?” she slurs.  
  
At this question, Buffy starts awake and jolts her head up from where it was resting on Faith’s shoulder. She groans, “Unf….Giles said we go where the old money is, or the old power, or something old. I dunno. You get used to it, sorta.”

Faith raises her eyebrows and finishes off her seventh glass of red wine. Buffy looks pointedly at her until Faith responds, “ _What?_ You fell asleep on my shoulder and I got bored. Besides, I’m a nervous flier if I’m sober.”  
  
 _There’s an understatement,_ Faith chides herself, _You were fucking terrified the second this thing took off. Demons, vampires, not a problem. Planes turn you into a gibbering wreck.Another tick in the pathetic column for Faith._  
  
Buffy sighs, rubs her eyes, and comes back at Faith, “I was not asleep, I just…musta dozed off, didn’t give us any pillows or anything…crappy airline.” Buffy trails off, looking away at the other passengers as they begin assemble their belongings.  
  
Faith works on slowing down her heartbeat, safe in the knowledge that the plane is on the ground - and also that Buffy’s head is no longer resting so close to hers that she can smell her soft scent with every breath she takes in.  
  
They pass through security uneventfully, even tipsy Faith has the good sense to keep polite with the airport staff. Bags collected, they move through customs and out of the airport. Buffy looks around, then gestures for Faith to follow her towards an unassuming black car with darkened windows. In front of the car is a young woman with mousey brown hair and freckles. “Hey Susan,” Buffy calls out, “Nice timing, as always.”  
  
“Evening, Ms. Summers, Ms. Lehane,” Susan greets them a shade too formally in her Essex accent, bobs her plump head in what is almost a curtsey.   
  
“Wow, this really is a full-service gig, huh, this Foundation?” Faith wonders out-loud as she and Buffy get into the back of the car. Truth be told, this level of formality makes Faith very nervous. She’s more comfortable with scumbags in dive bars, at least there she knows what she should say and do. “Haven’t been called Ms. Lehane since I was in court.”Their car pulls away from the airport and merges with motorway traffic. Susan puts Radio Two on quietly and begins to hum along to the music.  
  
Perhaps Buffy picks up on Faith’s unease, because she leans in close and whispers, “Susan likes to lay it on a little thick. I think she’s trying to make up for the fact that last time she was in training with me, she sucked at it.”  
  
Desperately ignoring the feeling of Buffy’s breath on her ear, Faith swallows hard and nods. _Had to go for red wine on the plane, didn’t you, dumbass? You know that shit turns you into a horny, emotional idiot._ Faith’s voice cracks a little as she asks, “Yeah? How so?”  
  
Buffy checks to see if Susan is still unaware of their conversation, then leans back over and murmurs, “I was teaching her to block low, and she ended up slapping me right in the groin. Don’t really know how she managed it, still haven’t really forgiven her.”

Faith can’t help but snort as she poorly attempts to restrain a laugh. “Man, wish I coulda seen that,” Buffy’s scowl only makes Faith laugh more. “Was it a good punch, like, did you…did it need to put ice on it…or?” Faith is pretty much giggling now, causing Buffy to break out in a smile. She grins, nudges Faith, and grumbles at her to shut up.  
  
The car speeds along through the night’s grim downpour, and eventually the two Slayers settle into a silence. Not an uncomfortable one, Faith notes. She has to admit, the time her and Buffy have spent travelling together for the last couple of days has, for the most part, been enjoyable. Without any imminent threat to the world to fight against, it’s been the first opportunity they’ve had to actually talk to each other since they were teenagers. It’s made Faith realise how very lonely she’s been since she relocated to Philadelphia. _No,_ she realises, _since before then. Since the battle in Sunnydale. I was lonely in San Diego, too._

The two Slayers had talked about Robin Wood whilst they were waiting in Philadelphia airport. Faith had confided in Buffy that she often wondered how different her life would be if she’d just ignored her unhappiness and settled with Robin. Buffy said she’d also wondered how her life might have been different if she’d continued dating him rather than choosing Spike. Buffy had come to the conclusion that there’s a high chance Spike would have left, the First would have won the final battle and they’d all be dead. “Well, shit, you win.”Faith had chuckled, but both of them fell quiet and pensive after that.

Faith recalls the look in Robin’s eyes when she’d made the decision to leave San Diego, when she started throwing vitriol and unpleasantness his way. Jibes about him being in love with Buffy, about him having a Slayer-mommy fetish, about how he’d never be anything more than a second-rate vamp hunter. She didn’t mean any of it; she was trying to help him by inciting him to hate her. Seeing his face as his heart broke - all it did was make her hate herself even more.

But, as good a man as he was, she did not - could not - love him. Something had changed for Faith during that battle in the Hellmouth. She’d fought like she’d never fought anyone or anything before, and it wasn’t just because of the seriousness of the threat. She’d watched Buffy Summers take a sword through her stomach, seen her fall, and seen the panic in her eyes as she’d passed Faith the Scythe. She’d been the only person who had witnessed Buffy Summers accept (what she thought) was her fate to truly die, once and for all.

Night after night in Robin Wood’s sleeping arms, Faith had unwillingly replayed this moment over and over in her mind. Soon, she couldn’t find any joy in anything, she could only think about “what-ifs”. So she turned to the only defence mechanism that had ever worked for Faith in the past: she ran away.

The car bumps over a small pothole, jolting Faith out of her thoughts. She glances over at Buffy, who is watching the passing night through her window of the car. Motorway streetlights cast swathes of harsh light across her soft skin at strange angles, creating steady pulses of sparks reflecting in her eyes. Faith realises she’s staring, hypnotised, and she turns her head to gaze out of her own window, then closes her eyes, and tries to will away the last effects of the plane wine.  
  
Faith nearly yelps as she feels Buffy reach out and take her hand from where it was resting on the middle seat. She turns and is met with Buffy’s eyes locked on hers, her mouth set and an unreadable expression on her face.She’s still holding Faith’s hand.  
  
“I’m glad you’re here, Faith. Thank you for coming to help us…to help me. I mean it.”  
  
Faith’s mouth is dry, her pulse quickens as a rush of warmth flows from her chest down through the pit of her stomach, then further down still; she feels like there’s a huge spotlight on her as she searches for her knowledge of the English language - suddenly a distant memory.  
  
“I…uh….” Faith falters. _I GOT NOTHING_ a voice yells in her head. “Y…eh, don’t worry about it, B. Anyways, I’m here to make sure you don’t fuck up any more girls' lives, right? Ain’t all about helping you.”Buffy’s face falls a little as Faith withdraws her hand and gives a slight roll of her shoulders. They both look out of their own windows again, and slip back into a much less-comfortable silence. Faith screws her eyes shut briefly as she mentally scolds herself, _You fucking jackass._


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work rating updated to "explicit" for this chapter's benefit... oops.

“Let me out!! Lemme go, you fuckin’ wankers!!” The young rogue Slayer throws herself around her newly-assigned padded cell within Safe Camp. Giles, Andrew and Willow observe her from behind a panel of four-inch thick glass.Willow’s vision had given them only a glimpse of the pure rage and desire for violence within Laura’s small frame. It would only be a matter of time before keeping her at the Foundation would become dangerous for everyone involved.  
  
Giles studies the dark-haired child spitting and snarling behind the glass, and briefly marvels at her constitution. She has recovered remarkably quickly from the sedative Andrew and Kennedy administered to her upon her capture. Although thankfully, their journey back to the Foundation that afternoon had gone smoothly, as Laura had stayed unconscious long enough for their team of young Slayers to properly clean and clothe her before placing her in her cell.

When Kennedy had first introduced herself to Laura, she found a child covered in muck from the barn she’d been hiding out in. She attacked Kennedy straight away, and it had taken Kennedy plus Ruth, another strong Slayer, to hold Laura still enough for Andrew to administer the sedative. The HQ’s research had found that Laura had run away from her council foster home, had no family looking for her, and she was in fact, just eleven years old.

Giles moves away from the cell, glances down the corridor which contains another twelve cells, of which eight others are occupied. In terms of percentages, out of over two hundred and fifty new Slayers located in the last eighteen months, having only nine of them too dangerous to be trusted out in the world _wasn’t actually all that bad odds_ , Giles muses. _Just over three percent, if my maths serves…_

The group move to exit the building, passing first through a set of reinforced steel doors controlled remotely. “Well done on the capture, Andrew, she doesn’t appear to have been adversely affected at all.”  
  
“Thank you, Rupert, we always get the job done, as you know.” Andrew puffed his chest a little as they pass one by one through an unassuming-looking archway into the next corridor - the only way towards Safe Camp’s exit. Willow was particularly proud of this installation by herself and Nadine. The archway was imbued with a charm designed to instantly render unconscious any of the rogues contained within the building, unless they were carrying a particular talisman, which was kept locked in the Foundation HQ room.A small lock of hair was taken from each new rogue as they arrived, in order to train the magicks to respond only to their specific auras (as unique as a fingerprint) meaning anyone else could pass through the archway unaffected. It was a simple security measure that hopefully they’d never need to use.

Giles comes back at Andrew dryly, “Yes of course, and your backup escort of super-strong Slayers has nothing to do with your unblemished success rate?” The three are granted access through the final set of double steel doors, and they walk outside into the dark night. It is early December, and the sharp snap of the wind blowing in from the coast makes all of them wrap their jackets around themselves a little tighter. The wet ground glistens from an earlier downpour, and the wind makes shadows of heavy clouds race across the sky, providing quick, dramatic glimpses of the waxing moon.  
  
Andrew whines, “See, now, this is what I’m talking about, Giles. I do all this work with planning…and travelling around…I do so much legwork. The girls are just the muscle. That place we grabbed Laura was _icky_ gross with sheep poop…” Giles and Willow exchange a look; they’ve heard similar speeches from Andrew before. “…and all I’m saying is maybe, we could talk about the private jet again. Is all. Would help certain people feel, more, you know, appreciated?”

Giles delivers Andrew a withering stare before he turns back to Willow and tilts his head slightly. “How are you feeling now?”  
  
“I’m ok, Giles, really!” the redhead nods, hugging her arms around herself, as though her sheepskin jacket isn’t doing its job. “I just wish we knew when Buffy was gonna be back. Feels…a little askew without her here, don’t you think?”  
  
Giles smiles a little, he knows Willow’s making an understatement for his benefit. She is trying to encourage him to talk to her about his own concerns, and he’s touched by the gesture. He is also very aware of Andrew paying rapt attention to their every word, and doesn’t feel at all like this is the time or the place to open up.

“Yes, I haven’t had any message from her of late - perhaps she’s called whilst we’ve been at Safe Camp. I’ll go and check.” He places a hand gently on Willow’s shoulder. “You know I’ll inform you as soon as I hear anything. In the meantime, why not go talk to Nadine about whether she’s had any luck with this morning’s Sighting.” _Although in truth,_ he thinks, _we could do with a bit of a break from finding any more rogues right now. Two in a week is more than enough. Maybe they’ll get lucky and Nadine will have only found new “normal” Slayers. “Normal Slayers.” There’s an expression I never thought I’d use…._

“And we can put a pin in this jet conversation for now, that’s fine, Giles!” Andrew calls out as Giles walks away towards his office.

He arrives at the door and unlocks it, and his heart leaps in his chest to see the number on his answer machine flashing - _At last!._ He marches over to his desk to play back the message.  
  
“ _Giles, hey man. Hope this is still the right number for you, or else I’m probably gonna confuse the heck out of some poor British pensioner somewhere…”_ The initial disappointment Giles feels realising it’s not a message from Buffy vanishes, and he smiles at the sound of the familiar voice playing back. _“…or maybe you’ve lowered yourself enough to get a cell phone by now, who knows.  
  
“Anyway, look, I miss you guys so much. I’m tired of bouncing around over here on my own. Grand tour of the US has been swell and all, but now I’m ready go home and it turns out, my home got blowed up and swallowed by a Hellmouth. So. Maybe if you think you could use a little extra help, or just a little extra annoyance…give me a call.”_ Giles scribbles down the phone number that follows, then dials it straight away.  
  
Giles paces the small office as the line rings several times. Then there’s a click as the line is picked up.  
  
“‘Lo?”  
  
“Hello, Xander.”  
  
“Heyyyyy! God, Giles, it is _good_ to hear your voice.”

They talk for a chat while, and Giles makes an effort to keep himself and Xander talking, (something he’s not altogether great at over the phone.) They talk a little about his travels, what he’s been up to for the past year, Giles finds out that Xander’s parents moved to Florida and he’s been staying with them for a week, and now he feels he’s more than ready to come and join the Foundation. 

“How soon do you think you can get here?” Giles asks,  
  
“Well…timeliness isn’t an issue. I’m really, _really_ ok with getting the heck outta here as soon as I can. I cannot believe my parents haven’t killed each other yet, and if I stay here much longer, I’m gonna do it for them.” Xander pauses, “But, honestly - cash is more of a problem. The transatlantic haul ain’t as cheap as I need it to be. I’m so sorry to ask, but, is there any chance I could borrow the air fare? I’ll get it back to you as soon as I can, you know I’m good for it.”  
  
A small chuckle escapes Giles’s mouth before he can stop it. “Xander, I can have a flight booked for you tomorrow, if you’d like. You really mustn’t worry about it.”  
  
“That….would be incredible. Yes please. A thousand yesses. Thank you, so much.” Xander exhales.  
  
After their conversation, Giles phones the HQ room in order to arrange Xander’s flight and transfer. Rhianne answers the phone, a young Slayer who manages much of the Foundation’s logistical work. 

“Can you put me through to Susan, please? I need to book her for an executive airport pickup.”  
  
Rhianne makes a click with her tongue,“Another one? We should probably ask an extra girl to start doing drives as well, if we’re going to be this busy.”  
  
Giles furrows his brow, “What do you mean, “another one”?” Rhianne falters a little, pauses as she checks her diary, then continues in her lilting Welsh accent,  
  
“Yep, Sue’s out right now, due back any minute hopefully - I think traffic is ok tonight…”  
  
Giles shelves his confusion, thanks her, and requests that she book Xander on the first business-class flight from Florida the next day. He locks his office then hurries towards the north wing of Norton House, with the intention of calling in on Willow to ask whether she’s expecting any Coven members flying in for consultations. This takes him through the main entrance lobby, his wet shoes squeaking on the polished marble floor as his thoughts race.  
  
“Shit, Giles, where’s the fire?” a familiar Boston accent stops him in his tracks. He turns to face the seating area next to the door, and finds Buffy and Faith waiting in chairs next to their reception area, suitcases parked up next to them.

The three of them stare at each other, wide-eyed, until Giles manages to find the words to splutter at Buffy, “Your phone? It’s _broken_ , I presume?”  
  
Buffy stands, opens and closes her mouth several times at this unexpected scolding from her former watcher. “I…I wanted to surprise you! Like, in a good way? You know…” she grins and attempts a fairly feeble attempt at jazz hands, “…tahdah!”  
  
Anger turns to exasperation, then fades completely as Giles pulls Buffy into a hug. He mumbles over the top of her head “You could’ve bloody told me you were safely on your way back. Might’ve stopped me worrying so much.”  
  
Faith shakes her head, standing and nervously twisting her hands a little as Giles turns to face her. “Yeah, bet you were pretty worried about your golden girl chasin’ after such a bad apple, huh.”

Giles smiles warmly and his eyes twinkle, and without thinking too much on whether it’s the right thing to do, Giles gently puts an arm around Faith and squeezes her to his side. “It’s good to see you again, Faith.” She allows the side-hug for a second, then wriggles away. “And, it may surprise you to know that we were all worried about you, too. You’re very welcome here, and you’ll always have a safe place with us.”  
  
He’s unsurprised to see that Faith completely avoids his eyes after he says this, and just manages a quiet, “…thanks…” 

Buffy breaks the awkwardness (to Faith’s relief), “We’re just waiting on Faith’s room assignment. I thought it’d be best if she stayed with us in north wing rather than with the newbies.” She looks at Faith and smiles, “Hopefully she’ll be on staff soon, if she’ll have us.”

Faith grins back, somewhat more lasciviously, “Listen if you’re headhunting me for recruitment, I wanna be wooed, you know? You gotta show me all them perks of the job before I sign up for anything. This place is fancy ass…and it’s got ‘wings’? Good start.”   
  
Giles cuts in, “Yes, well, of course, Faith, you’ll want to see what our Foundation is made of, I’m sure. But, as I’m sure Buffy’s told you, now more than ever your input would be very much appreciated.” His eyes meet Buffy’s and they pause.

Giles takes off his glasses and cleans them with his tartan pocket handkerchief,“There’ve been two new rogues this week.”  
  
Buffy shakes her head. “Jesus. Secure Camp must be nearly full now.”  
  
Giles replaces his glasses and holds up a hand, “Let’s…discuss this properly tomorrow, Buffy, please. You both must be exhausted and it’s getting late.” 

“Yeah,” Buffy nods, “I wanna catch up with Dawn and everyone too - but don’t tell them I’m back yet, I’ll try surprise them tomorrow. Hopefully they won’t be as grouchy as you were about it!” 

A green-haired young Slayer enters the lobby with a set of keys and large ledger. Seeing the three of them, she apologetically says “Excuse me, Mr Giles, sorry to interrupt. Ms. Lehane, I have your room allocation in the north wing, if you’d like to follow me?”  
  
Giles smiles, “I’ll leave you to it, but perhaps tomorrow you could come and see me first thing, both of you.”  
  
Buffy wrinkles her nose “Giles…jet lag much? Can we come see you, say, _noon_ thing rather than first thing? Besides, Faith needs the grand tour, right?”  
  
They all walk together through the building into the north wing, chatting lightly about the flight, the plane food, etc. Giles bids them goodnight and heads off to his quarters. He watches Buffy and Faith continue down the hallway, and opens his room with a smile on his face. _She’s home, they’re both safe._

Once inside, he switches on a couple of lamps and pours himself a good measure of a particularly fine scotch from its crystal decanter. Enjoying the burning sensation it brings to his chest, he rolls up his shirt sleeves and lowers himself slowly into his favourite green wingback armchair. He puts his feet up on the small table in front of him, swills the amber liquid a little and watches the clear little rivulets running down the inside of the glass. _And now the real work begins._  
  
———————————————-

“This is you.” The green-haired Slayer unlocks a door at the end of a passageway, swinging it open. As they’ve been following her, Faith has noticed the girl walks with a limp, and as she pushes the door open the weight of the heavy oak throws her off-balance slightly. “Alright,” she breezes, “well if you need anything else just holler. I’ll be on shift all night, I’m Rachel.” Before she leaves, she stops and beams at them both, “It’s a real honour to meet you, Ms. Lehane. Ms. Summers, glad you’re back home.”  
  
“Wow, she’s wicked eager. What a peach.” Faith’s jaw drops as she stares around her corner room. “This is…I mean, did you stick me in the best room you got? If you’re tryin’ to impress me, it is _working_ , B, lemme tell you.”  
  
Her bedroom is massive, roughly the same size as the entire bottom floor of the house in Philadelphia. Against the far wall is is a super-king bed, complete with crisp soft white sheets and elegantly designed throw cushions. Faith runs into the bathroom (“I got my own _tub_? No fuckin' way!!”) then eagerly pulls back the heavy drapes to look at the view, before remembering that it’s now eleven in the evening and completely dark outside.  
  
Buffy stands and watches Faith explore her new room like an excited kid, and can’t help but smile. _She’s earned a little comfort, god knows._ “Yeah, Rachel’s a good one. She was called pretty early on, and came here for training. But, she lost her leg when she was a kid, so even with her new powers and the prosthetic, she’s not comfortable fighting. She wanted to work here and help the cause though…” Buffy looks down at the ground. “Willow’s spell…we had no idea how it was going to affect so many people differently. We’re lucky, you and me, in a lot of ways.”  
  
Faith watches Buffy as she speaks, then perches on the edge of her bed. Despite herself, she can’t help but bounce a little on it, grinning like a Cheshire cat. Buffy chuckles, then Faith replies, “Guess we are. Living in a place like this, I can believe it.”

They smile at each other for a moment, then Buffy sighs and moves towards the door, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Faith.” 

“Wait, you never told me what room you’re in!” Faith calls out as Buffy moves into the corridor.

Buffy looks back into the room with a half smile, “I know I didn’t. Goodnight.”

She closes the door, her last glimpse of Faith as she smiles and shakes her head, flopping back onto her bed, murmuring “fuckin’ _buzzkill_ …”  
  
Buffy’s room is, in fact, the other corner suite just opposite Faith’s, but she opens her door as quietly as possible so as not to alert Faith to that fact. Or at least, she tries to…  
  
“Busted!” Faith wrenches open her own door again and leans against the frame, as Buffy holds her own door open. “So, we’re _practically_ roommates. Did you bribe Rachel to set this up, or what?” Faith teases Buffy. “Wait, is your room bigger than mine?” She attempts to peer around Buffy to look.  
  
Buffy backs into her room, looking Faith in the eyes as she does, and faux-whispers “Oh, what I got going on in here? You’d be _amazed.”_

That causes Faith’s eyes to pop and she stands up straighter “Uhh…what?”  
  
“G’night!” Buffy calls out as she closes and locks the door behind her. She smiles, enjoying the satisfaction of finding Faith so easy to wind up. _She can dish out the flirting and innuendoes, but turns out, she ain’t so good at handling them from me,_ Buffy gloats to herself.

As she lies on her bed, she notices a warm, dull ache in parts of her which haven’t felt “warm, dull achey” for a really long time. _Weird, s_ he thinks, and decides to sensibly ignore these feelings until they go away. _Shoo. Shoo now._

Twenty minutes later, Buffy lies in the dark, panting from her exertion, bare legs tangled up in her sheets, both hands lie resting on the insides of her thighs, sticky with sweat and her own wetness. Granted, this kind of “self-care” hasn’t been high on the list of her priorities of late, but she hasn’t had an orgasm like that for years. _Note to self,_ she thinks, _find more time to do_ that _._ She stretches out on her bed and enjoys the hot-cool afterglow as endorphins course throughout her body.

_So what brought that on?_ her brain enquires, persistently.  
  
_Been a while. Long day, long few months, now I’m home safe. Bit of release, nothing wrong with it. Now shut up._ Buffy scolds her brain.

She recalls the feeling in her abdomen when she realised she’d out-flirted Faith. The look on the brunette’s face - surprised, bewildered…aroused?  
  
With a sinking sensation, Buffy realises _that’s_ what spurred her on to go to town on herself. It was the suspicion - no, the certainty - that she’d turned Faith on a little. As soon as the thought swims into her mind, she feels her body respond again, a hotness returning to her centre.  
  
She turns over onto her side, deciding not to succumb to this… _whatever_ this is. Not now, when she’d just gotten home and things were supposed to be getting easier. Getting turned on by Faith was a complication she was _not_ prepared to deal with.

Although, her legs appear to have other ideas, as she involuntarily squeezes her thighs together, causing exquisite pleasure to build up. Soon her hand is back between her legs, dipping her fingers inside herself, before settling into an insistent rhythm stroking her clit.

There, in the privacy of her room, she allows herself for the first time in her life to envision what Faith’s long hair would feel like curling over her shoulder whilst she pleasures herself. Buffy imagines Faith lying naked sidelong behind her, body pressed up against her own - full lips planting kisses and bites against Buffy’s shoulder. This intense visual stimulus pushes a gasp from Buffy, as she speeds up her movement, grinding her hips and squeezing her thighs over and over again. Any initial jolts of shame and self-consciousness melt away quickly, and she can almost feel Faith’s hot breath on her neck. She pictures her hand as Faith’s hand, and soon Buffy finds herself at breaking point even quicker than last time. She comes hard, her thrill intensified by the knowledge that Faith is so nearby - just across the hallway - and barely holds onto a cry in the back of her throat.

She lies back in the dark, stars in her eyes and her heart pounding like a jackhammer, and wonders… _what the fuck just happened?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm starting to catch up to myself now, posting vs writing...it's making me a little nervous! I'll keep new chapters coming when I can. Really enjoying putting this together! Cheers x


	7. Chapter 7

The late morning is overcast and distinctly too chilly for Dawn’s taste. She hugs her heavy knitted grey pullover tighter around herself, then refocusses the magnifying glass over the massive ancient book in front of her. The language is an archaic blend of several Malaya-Polynesian dialects, and she has been really struggling to work through it. It’s the only known copy of “Kuei-Hesek Chronicles”, written some thousand years ago by a demonologist who devoted his life to the cataloging of Pacific island demons.

She sighs, takes a break to “reset her eyes” (as she likes to think of it) and relaxes back in her chair. She surveys the lofty, large room that her and Giles have been using as a library, watches the weak light stream through the windows and catch motes of dust circling slowly in the air. The large space is filling up nicely with shelves full of old texts and artefacts, and she’s proud of her part in that. It wasn’t necessarily the life she’d imagined for herself when she was a fourteen-year-old in Sunnydale, but now she loved her role at the Foundation. When Giles asked for her help with setting up the new occult library - a “definitive collection”, he’d called it - Dawn had jumped at the idea.

She carefully places the enormous fragile book back into its perspex case, locks it shut, then shuffles out of the library, rubbing her eyes as she walks. _Coffee._ she thinks. _Brain needs caffeine, and possibly some sort of pastry._ She makes her way towards the canteen hall, aware it’s long past breakfast serving hours, but also aware of where the apple turnovers are kept in the kitchen.   
  
Bleary eyed, she pushes open the canteen door, but stops in her tracks when doesn’t find it empty, as she’d expected. Occupying the only table without chairs stacked on top of it, she sees a blonde and a brunette, sitting close next to each other, laughing at a shared joke. Their mouths are stuffed full and they’re clearly working their way through an enormous pile of food, completely covering the small table’s surface.

Dawn catches her breath, “…Buffy??” she manages, rooted to the spot.

Buffy leaps up from her seat, (knocking it over in the process) hastily chews as she runs over to Dawn and pulls her into a Slayer-strong bearhug. Her mouth is still full as she exclaims, “ _Dwfnnf…mm…_ Dawnie! _”_ (she swallows and gets her breath back) “Dawnie I was gonna come see you in the library! We only just had breakfast, jetlag, you know?”   
  
Dawn ignores the pain in her squeezed ribs and beams back at her sister, then glances over at Faith, who has dutifully stopped stuffing her face and stands watching the pair. Dawn’s smile fades a little, “Faith….so Buffy found you after all. Been a year and some change. You couldn’ta called to check in?”Faith can’t help but feel a little cut by Dawn’s icy tone. “Yeah, sorry about that, kiddo. Sometimes you gotta get gone. Don’t expect you to understand. Much less expect you to care.”  
  
Dawn frowns a little, checking herself. “It’s just…Faith, none of us knew if you were safe, or where you were.” She crosses over to Faith, then says, more softly, “You dingus, you’re important. We missed you.” At this, she hugs Faith, smiling.  
  
Faith has a shy grin when Dawn finally releases her. “Jeez, first Giles, now you. S’more hugs than I think I’ve literally ever had…” Buffy and Dawn don’t know how to answer this, and Faith continues “…which is pretty pathetic, huh.”  
  
Wanting to break the awkwardness, Dawn raises her eyebrows at the pile of food laid out on the table. “You guys…got kinda peckish, huh? Is this the aftermath of any morning slaying…or?”   
  
Buffy’s eyes widen. “Nope! Just, normal jetlag munchies. Totally normal.” She glances at Faith then back to Dawn. “We cooked some stuff up or ourselves, kitchen staff already finished breakfast stuff.”   
  
Dawn peers into kitchen hatch visible behind them to see a fair amount of mess - dirty pans and utensils piled in the sink. “Kinda looks someone had a ketchup fight in there, you guys!”  
  
Buffy and Faith look at each other innocently. Faith pipes up “Yeah, Buffy’s such a clumsy ass, you know how it is, Dawnster.”

Buffy drops her jaw open “Um, _lie much?_ It was Faith who got sauce everywhere!”

“Was not!”

“ _So_ was!!”

As if to prove her point, Faith dips her finger in some ketchup from her plate and attempts to blob it onto Buffy’s nose. Buffy squeals and bats Faith’s hand away, then the other, as the pair swat at each other, giggling.  
  
“Um….” Dawn voices over their noise “…what the hell’s up with you two? Nutsos…” She goes into the kitchen to a high cupboard, grabs for a box of leftovers from the morning’s pastry delivery. She takes the box back out into the canteen hall to find Buffy and Faith sat back at their banquet, once again fork-deep and chewing.   
  
“Ooh, any danishes? Danishish…ees…danii?” Buffy perks up and looks inquisitively at the box Dawn carries.  
  
“You got back extra giddy, huh!” Dawn passes Buffy the last danish in the box for her to add to her enormous platter.  
  
“Yo, any bearclaws in there?” Faith eyes up the box as well now, and Dawn resignedly takes her solitary apple turnover before handing the box over to the hungry Slayers.   
  
Buffy finishes the danish in three bites, then answers “I’m just glad we’re home, you know? Sleeping in my own bed, using my own shower, not living out of a suitcase. It makes a girl…peppy! Anyway, gotta refuel before I give Faith the grand tour.”

Dawn beams, “You’re gonna love it here, Faith. It’s got everything! Big gym for training, a library, ooh, you should show her the grounds too, Buff, the woods are beautiful. Ooh! And you _gotta_ take her to the beach!”   
  
Faith looks out of the window, a grimace on her face. “Beach? You kidding? Why does this country even _have_ beaches with weather like this?? And anyways, I didn’t bring my bathing suit so unless it’s a nudey beach - I think ya neighbours’ll be blushing…”   
  
Dawn shakes her head, and watches Buffy determinedly spearing her omelette with a fork. Faith looks at Buffy, then laughs, “…oh and of course, blondie’s blushing too!”  
  
“God, can’t we just have one conversation where you’re not bringing up nudity! I’m trying to eat breakfast!” Buffy objects, a little stronger than necessary.

Faith just laughs, and Dawn smiles at the pair of them. She leans over behind Buffy and gives her another brief hug. “Glad you’re back, sis. Felt weird without you at the helm. The newbies will be glad to have you back training them. Kennedy’s done great, but, they all know she isn’t you.”  
  
Buffy smiles at her tall little sister, then at Faith - “well, hopefully Faith will be sticking around and then they can have the benefit of two old Slayers -” she catches herself. “- not _old_ , old. We are so _not_ old. We’re, you know, classic. Like a car.”   
  
“Vintage?” Faith adds, with a sneer, “Antique?”  
  
Buffy lifts one half of her mouth in a resigned grimace. “I guess we probably are…geriatric… compared to the newbies. Ugh. There goes my pep.” She puts her fork down and leans back.  
  
Faith shrugs, leans over and spears half a sausage from Buffy’s plate.  
  
“Come find me when you’re ready for the library tour? I gotta get back.” Dawn calls over as she walks towards the canteen door.  
  
“Count on it!” Faith yells back, her mouth full again.

  
  
On her way back to the library, Dawn feels like her steps are lighter and she can breathe a bit easier knowing Buffy is back in the building. Her sister had seemed so out of sorts before she left, and now that she was back with Faith in tow, she was more like the old Buffy Dawn remembered from before.

She’s still in thought as she opens the door to reveal Giles standing at her desk, peering through the perspex case at the Kuei-Hesek Chronicles.   
  
“Ah, there you are, Dawn.” He straightens up, then perches on edge of the desk to address her. “I have some excellent news. Buffy has-”   
  
“Eaten us out of food supplies for the next three years? I know. Just caught her and Faith in the canteen doing their best impression of Chihiro’s parents from Spirited Away.”   
  
Completely missing the cultural reference, Giles frowns a little but continues, “So you’ve seen her already, good. She seems…remarkably well, don’t you think?”   
  
Dawn smiles and crosses her arms. “It must be nice for her and Faith to _not_ have an apocalypse or a fight-to-the-death feud to contend with. They seem super chill with each other this time.”  
  
Giles nods, “Yes, certainly, perhaps the time apart from each other has, well. They do say absence makes the heart grow fonder. Although perhaps Buffy’s just relieved to know that Faith hasn’t…reverted back to her old ways.”  
  
Dawn furrows her brow. “She…she hasn’t, right? I mean, we’re all still thinking Faith’s a good guy now?”   
  
“She’s given us no reason to think otherwise, Dawn. I’d say she’s more than proven herself with her voluntary prison time, and her part in defeating the First’s army.”Giles removes his glasses and begins cleaning them with his handkerchief. “We can only hope she’ll be able to help us with our plans going forward for the rogues. And, on that, there’s a new angle to consider, I’m afraid.”   
  
_What now?_ Dawn thinks to herself, as Giles replaces his glasses and lowers his voice, despite them being the only two people in the library.   
  
“I have been contacted by Angel. Well, by Wolfram and Hart, really. It seems, somehow they have gotten wind of our growing problem with rogue Slayers. They’ve offered their _services_ in providing us with…a solution.” Giles’s expression grows darker, “A poisoned apple, I’m sure, and entirely self-serving. They have offered to take the rogue Slayers off our hands, so to speak.”  
  
Dawn feels a creeping worry prickle up the back of her neck. During her time collating occult texts, she has become very familiar with the full extent of Wolfram and Hart’s power and reach throughout history. She still can’t believe Angel is behind the wheel for them.

“Like, take them away? Why?”  
  
“He’s offered us, if you can believe it, a contract. He will pay us fifty thousand dollars for every rogue Slayer we apprehend, on the understanding that we hand her over to Wolfram and Hart’s custody as soon as she’s captured. He’s been intentionally vague on the details, of course, but I get the impression they’re planning on using the rogues as their own mercenaries. He mentioned a new technology they have, some form of behaviour modification.”  
  
Dawn blinks, trying to straighten out the information Giles has just given her. “Like, _I_ _nitiative-style_ behaviour modification? Angel’s doing this?” she asks quietly, rhetorically really. “I can’t believe he’s…I can’t believe this is who he is now.”  
  
Giles nods slowly. “It seems the Shanshu prophecy appears to be fulfilling itself, in a strange way. Angel is playing a vital role in the world’s destiny…and we must accept that he has shown his hand, and chosen the side of evil. He has infinite money, he has power, and he appears to be enjoying it. I can’t think of anything more…human.”  
  
He sighs, then looks up at Dawn. “There’s something else, as well. I have it on good authority that Angel has joined the Circle of the Black Thorn. Have you come across them in your texts?”  
  
The prickle up the back of Dawn’s neck becomes a chill which spreads down to her stomach. “Giles…that can’t be true. They’re the ultimate in-crowd of badness; all the evil bigwigs in the world have members in the Circle. A-and you’re saying Angel’s _signed himself up?_ ”she stammers.

“I didn’t want it to be true either, Dawn, but here’s the thing. You and I, and everyone here needs to stop thinking of Angel as Buffy’s ex-boyfriend. He is CEO of the one of the world’s most nefarious powers. The Senior Partners of Wolfram and Hart are undeniably evil, unfathomably powerful, and Angel is _their man_ on the ground. He’s not the Angel we knew, he’s not even Angelus…he’s someone altogether different now. Someone who is not our friend, and not to be trusted… no matter what this _contract_ might imply.”  
  
A silence falls in the library and Dawn’s eyes are drawn absently to floating dust motes catching the light once again. She blinks and realises her eyes are wet. “Have you told Buffy?”  
  
Giles sighs, “Not yet. Angel’s call only came through an hour or so ago, I wanted to give her some time to get Faith acquainted with this place. Now, more than ever, we need Faith on _our_ side. Convincing her of Angel’s…allegiances… may be a difficult task.”  
  
Dawn nods, steadying herself “Give her the afternoon, yeah. But Buffy needs to know this info soon, and so does Faith. We need to convene and discuss this with the rest of the board. We gotta be ready to come back to Angel fully loaded with a response.”   
  
Giles nods, then smiles with a paternal pride at Dawn. “My thoughts exactly.” He touches the underside of her chin, gently. “We’ve been putting off making a plan for the rogues for too long, Dawn, maybe this threat will - I don’t know - spur us towards decisiveness. We no longer have the luxury of time to argue amongst ourselves.   
  
She returns his small smile, and nods. “I’ll get the memo out to everyone, should we say tonight at 5pm for the meet?”   
  
“Perfect.” Giles makes his way out of the library, leaving Dawn to try and gather her thoughts. _Faith is a friend to the Foundation, Angel is its enemy._ Dawn steels herself, overwhelmed with protective feelings of responsibility towards the hundreds of young Slayers the Foundation had taken under its wing. The Foundation’s mission, Dawn’s mission, is to protect them and ensure their safety. She can’t help but recall Buffy’s words from not so very long ago: above all else, _the mission is what matters._


	8. Chapter 8

Faith honestly can not remember when she’s had such an enjoyable afternoon. Buffy really has gone all out showing her the New Guardian Foundation. Maybe’s it’s just an effort to get her to sign up to help, but dammit, Faith is _impressed._ They’d started out with the dormitories, so Faith could meet some of the new Slayers and see where they live. She’d expected the place to be predictably ship shape, and it was. What Faith hadn’t expected was the near-standing ovation she received as they walked round the place. So many young women in there from all over the world - and they all knew Faith’s name. They seemed genuinely excited to meet her, which was a real first. _Last time I was in a building full of women, half of ‘em wanted to kill me, the other half wouldn’ta pissed on me if my hair was on fire._ Faith muses. She’d been concerned the dorms would remind her of prison, but this was a million miles away. These girls were happy and safe, looking out for each other; they really seemed like a family.   
  
When Faith thought her head couldn’t feel any bigger, her Buffy had entered Foundation HQ room, and the team of Slayers buzzing around really _did_ give Faith a standing ovation as she was introduced. They all stopped, stood, nodded acknowledgements toward her as “Ms. Lehane”. _I sure as shit ain’t in Kansas anymore…_ Faith had thought as she smiled nervously and tried to pay attention as Buffy was telling her what everyone’s job was. 

After that, Buffy had shown Faith the armoury - easily her second favourite part of the tour. Everything was in massive locked cages, of course, with two Slayers posted to ensure the Foundation’s rigorous weapons-logging procedures were followed.But the _amount_ of hardware she’d seen had made Faith drool a little. There were dozens of rows of moving high stacks (like you’d normally find in a library) - filled with swords of every description, throwing knives, maces, hammers, axes. Faith saw racks full of longbows, crossbows, and then a further locked cage containing what Faith suspected to be several flamethrowers. Not to mention the enormous open chests full to the brim with stakes. “We have a whittling station in there, everyone takes shifts.” Buffy had told her, casually.  
  
But the best part of Faith’s afternoon had been when Buffy had shown her the training gym. A converted old chapel, the upper floor still had the lofty rafters of the former church. There hung suspended a series of ropes and some raised platforms “for the more gymnastic stuff” Buffy had explained. The lower floor was the old crypt under the chapel, which had been extended out well beyond the original foundations to create a large subterranean space. This housed free weights, punch bags and cardio machines. Both levels had polished springy floors and mirror lined walls. It was _perfect_ , Faith thought.   
  
“Nice, nice, _nice.”_ Faith had breathed, looking round, a little awestruck. “So we got time to spar? It’s been a long while, B, don’t tell me you don’t wanna!”She’d flung up her wrists and made a couple of joke jabs in front of Buffy’s stomach. But she’d been disappointed when Buffy had declined, mumbled some excuse about still being jet-lagged, and said they didn’t have time.

So Faith had grudgingly followed Buffy out of the gym, and now they were making their way towards a smaller building, separate from the main Foundation complex.  
  
Faith and Buffy walk side by side across the grounds, Faith enjoying the clear, mild afternoon air and still giddy from seeing the amazing gym. “Ok, for real, you _gotta_ let me book in with your receptionist or your secretary, or whatever…I am taking you _on_ in that gym, B. Name a time and I’m there.” Faith jibes Buffy again, but still does not get the response she’s expecting. Buffy says nothing, and continues to walk, so Faith presses on, “And listen, I gotta know what you’ve been tellin’ everyone in there about me! Why they treating me like I’m the frickin’ pope or something?”  
  
Still no response from Buffy, so Faith stops walking. “Hey, Buffy, what gives? I’m all amped up about your shiny new outfit, thought that’s what you wanted?”  
  
Buffy stops, sighs, and turns to face Faith. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m very happy that you’re enjoying the tour, and it _is_ what I wanted.” She smiles for a moment, then her eyes train on the building they’re walking towards and her face turns grim. “It’s just that the place I’m taking you next…it’s not so much of the funtimes.”  
  
Faith catches on. “That’s where you’re keeping ‘em? The rogue Slayers?”  
  
Buffy nods, and starts walking again. Faith drops into step next to her.  
  
“You gotta give me the skinny before we get in there, ok? I wanna know what I’m walking into.”  
  
Buffy nods again, and explains, “These are girls who’ve been called, same as the rest of them. The only difference is, they’ve used their new powers to inflict pain on innocent people. Not just that. They’ve _enjoyed_ inflicting pain. Two of them, it wasn’t necessarily their fault - they weren’t anywhere near mentally sound to begin with. But most of them, they made the choice to abuse their abilities and hurt people.”   
  
She continues, “Nadine and Will have a way to track all the new Slayers. They’re all our responsibility now, Faith. That includes the ones who are a danger to themselves and others. We can’t leave them out there to cause harm, and I refuse to continue to keep them chained up in here. As evil as some of them might be, they don’t deserve that. There _has_ to be a better way.”  
  
Faith’s mind is whirring at what feels like a thousand miles an hour. All those years ago, Buffy was faced with the same problem of how to deal with Faith. Now it seems she’s up against it on a much larger scale. Faith can’t help but feel the soreness of old wounds - mental and physical.

They arrive outside the reinforced front door of Safe Camp. Faith feels a chill which has nothing to do with the weather, and she tries to hide a physical shiver from Buffy’s calm gaze.  
  
“Ok, show me.” Faith croaks.

“Are you sure?” Buffy’s green eyes search Faith’s deep brown ones, “You don’t have to go in here today, or at all. I mean, I want you to know what’s going on. But I understand if you can’t…”  
  
“Let’s go, I said.” Faith almost snaps, harder than she intended the words to come out.  
  
Buffy nods, and knocks at door sharply.

————————————————-

Much later that afternoon, the New Guardian Foundation executive board convenes at the large rectangular table in their meeting room. A strong blaze flickers proudly in the grand fireplace nearby, and the heavy shades are drawn, closing out the oncoming dark December night. This gathering may once have been called a Scooby meeting, but the additions, and notable, painful absences at the table meant it never seemed appropriate to use that term anymore.  
  
Faith is seated towards one end of the table, to the right of Buffy - placed at the top end. She looks around at the faces she knows, faces she doesn’t, and feels the palpable tension between the group as Giles continues his announcement.   
  
“We must remember that this offer isn’t an _offer_ at all. It’s a thinly-veiled challenge. Angel knows we are at a loss, and he is seeking to exploit that.”   
  
Faith looks at Buffy, to see her face blank, unreadable - just a thousand-yard stare into the polished oak table. Faith shakes her head, “Giles, you’ve gotta have this wrong. It’s _Angel,_ man. You’re telling me Angel is what, hook line and sinker full on black-cap evil now? Not demon Angelus, but Angel. This can’t be true…”  
  
Giles shakes his head, as Willow cuts in, “It _is_ true, Faith. I know it’s…it feels wrong to be considering it, and I understand you two have history -” she wavers “- of a sorts! I mean…you’re friends, we all get that. But in the last two years, especially since you’ve been away, Angel has very much picked his side. And it’s not our side.” She looks over to the young black witch sitting to her left, prompting her to continue.   
  
“Ever since the First was quashed, the Coven has been monitoring Los Angeles as the primary base for the world’s dark forces.” The firelight dances across the deep bronze skin of Nadine’s face, her soft voice carrying inexplicably well across the huge table. Her large dark eyes hold Faith’s, “There can be no mistaking it. Angel is working as an agent of evil. He is both leader, and puppet; a powerful figurehead, and a willing subject. He himself has killed many innocents, and on his orders, hundreds have died and countless more continue to suffer. The Wolf, Ram and Hart are stronger than ever under Angel’s leadership.”   
  
Buffy seems to break out of her trance. She snaps, at nobody in particular. “Ok. So he wants the rogues. He wants to, _what_ , buy them? I don’t get it. Why? What good are they to him?”

Giles rubs a hand across his chin, silver stubble beginning to show through. “He mentioned, very briefly, that they have “new behaviour modification technology”. Of course, didn’t elaborate any further. I’d imagine an obedient army of morally corrupt super-humans would probably be very useful in his…line of work…”  
  
Buffy’s face turns cold and furious, “Of course. Wolfram and Hart teams up with the Initiative. Match made in hell. Giles, there is no way we are considering this.”  
  
Nobody says anything for a while. Kennedy opens her mouth, tentatively, “…How much did he say they were offering?”  
  
Willow looks at her girlfriend, aghast, mouth open. Kennedy hastily continues“I’m not saying we should do it! I just mean, however much they’re offering, that tells us how much they really want the rogues. You know?” She sinks back into her chair, “I wasn’t saying we should go for it!” she grumbles to herself.

Dawn pipes up, matter of factly, “Fifty thousand dollars per rogue.”  
  
Andrew utters a long, low whistle. “Gandalf’s beard…” he whispers quietly.

After some time, Faith decides to voice her thoughts. She clears her throat as her words initially come out raspy, “You-you can’t keep them here though. I saw your Safe camp. You lock those girls in there, you’re not helping them, or anyone else. All you’re doing is adding gunpowder to the pile - explosion’s gonna kill more people when it eventually sets off. Trust me.” She can’t bring herself to meet Buffy’s gaze, which she can feel burning into her face.“And you all know it _will_ set off, someday. Else you wouldn’t be so panicked.”

She fiddles absentmindedly with a pen in front of her. “I’m not saying we hand ‘em over to Angel. Still can’t get my head around the fact he’s the bad guy here, but I know I'm outta the loop, so I guess I gotta trust you. Behaviour modification sounds like shit. But maybe…there’s gotta be a compromise. You can’t keep ‘em here, you can’t let ‘em go just like that either. They can’t all turn out as reformed as me.”  
  
Although she her last comment is lighthearted, she isn’t smiling. She looks up at Giles, who isn’t smiling either. 

Buffy rubs her temples. “We’ve been here before, guys. We always come back to talking about a rehab programme. And I think we could do it! Look at Faith, she’s proof that a dangerous Slayer can be saved. She’s evidence that people are _worth_ putting in the time, no matter what!”  
  
Despite the seriousness of the problem at hand, Faith can’t help but feel a lump in her throat and warmth in her chest at Buffy’s words. _How ‘bout that. Never knew she felt that way.  
  
_ Giles shakes his head, “Buffy, it's true, Faith is a remarkable case, but she was corrupted by outside forces at a young age. She was _encouraged_ towards darkness by someone else in order to use and manipulate her. She then showed genuine remorse and voluntarily handed herself to the authorities. That makes her hugely different from the rogues we have at Safe Camp, and you know it. It’s not a fair comparison.” 

Dawn interjects, “But maybe, some of our rogues just made mistakes, like Faith did? Their first times hurting someone, they didn’t know how strong they were…and…”   
  
“No, Dawnie,” Willow interrupts gently, “plenty of our new Slayers in training have made mistakes and hurt people by accident. That’s understandable, and we help them through that. The Sightings of rogues, it’s a different ball game. These girls _want_ to maim, hurt, kill, for their own amusement or benefit. The magicks react differently. It feels…very different when we find them.”  
  
Nadine clears her throat, “Willow is correct. We feel the intent of the Slayer during a Sighting, we feel what is in their hearts.” 

The room falls quiet again. Giles carefully states, “We have to make a decision. We cannot let Angel make it for us.”   
  
Willow is the one to break the silence. “There is an option, sort of a compromise, like Faith said. I don’t even really know how it could be done yet, but Nadine and I have been talking it out with the Coven. What if,” she pauses and takes a deep breath, “What if we could artificially…dull the rogue’s powers, and combine it with memory spells, in order to make them safe enough to send back into the world again?”  
  
Buffy looks incredulously at the redhead. “Are you _serious_? Cos you’ve had such great success with memory spells in the past, Will? And pulling a stunt like the council did with that gross test where they took away my Slayer strength? No. Absolutely not. I, I can’t believe you’re the one suggesting that.”She stands away from the table and turns away, furious.  
  
Willow looks hurt, and is visibly steadying herself as she continues, “What I’m suggesting would mean we can let them go, Buffy. Send them home, so they can go and live their lives however they want to.”   
  
“Ummm, not to ask a dumb question, but how is that different to what Angel wants to do, with behaviour modification?” Andrew asks.   
  
“Because, stupid, Angel probably wants to use the rogues as obedient mercenaries, programmed to do his bidding. What Will’s suggesting only alters their…” Kennedy waves her hands vaguely “… _Slayer-ness_ ….but after that they can do what they want.” She smiles. “I think it’s a great idea. But, sounds like a hell of a lot of serious magic. Magic that Will cannot and _should not_ do on her own.” She looks pointedly at Nadine, who’s face remains calm. 

Giles tilts his head, regards the witches cooly, “Do you think it can be done, in all seriousness?”  
  
Nadine flicks her eyes to Buffy, then Faith, before meeting Giles’s eyes, “Yes. It would take a lot of work, but we believe this is possible.”  
  
Buffy throws up her hands. “This doesn’t feel right, guys. We’re talking about effectively turning Slayers into _not_ Slayers. How is that our call to make?”  
  
Dawn looks up at Buffy, slowly and carefully saying, “We made that call before…when we decided to activate all the world’s potential Slayers. Maybe we’re the only people who _can_ make the call to…deactivate the ones who should never have been granted those powers…”

Buffy stares wide-eyed at Dawn, before shaking her head. “I…I can’t do this right now. It’s…too much. I gotta…I gotta go get some water…” She quickly leaves the meeting room, ignoring the several full carafes of water on the table in front of her.  
  
“Buffy, please,” Giles starts, as Buffy’s halfway out the door.  
  
“I got her.” Faith is already up from her seat before she’s aware of it, following the blonde.

Outside the meeting room, Buffy’s shoes clack hastily on the polished marble as she beats a speedy retreat. Faith breaks into a jog, “Hang on a sec, jeez…”  
  
She rounds the corner and nearly slams into Buffy, who’s stopped abruptly and is holding her head in her hands, leaning on her haunches with her back against the wall. Faith takes a seat squatting down next to her, sighing, “What a fuckin’ mess, huh.” her voice echoes slightly in the empty space.  
  
Buffy stays silent, staring out at nothing in particular.She moves her hands from her temples to hold the back of her neck under her ponytail. Faith watches her sidelong, marvelling at how graceful Buffy looks even when she’s falling apart.  
  
Eventually, Buffy whispers, “It’s happening again.”  
  
“Whaddya mean?”   
  
“The fates of… _hundreds_ of women rests on my decision, again. Our decision. I…I thought this would end, once the Foundation was in place. So stupid.” Buffy turns her head to look at Faith, her eyes filling with tears. This sends a jolt in Faith’s stomach, and she realises she feels _sorry_ for Buffy, which isn’t a comfortable or familiar place to find herself in.

Buffy continues, “I just wanted to be free of this…this responsibility. Now Sunnydale’s gone, and the world has all these other Slayers, I’d…I’d hoped that maybe I could get some peace, finally. That maybe it wouldn’t always come down to me. But here we are, again. And I - I don’t know what to do, Faith.”  
  
Faith can’t find any words to tell Buffy that she hears her, and that she understands. So, with her heart thumping, she reaches a hand out to rest on Buffy’s bended knee. Buffy stiffens initially, then relaxes as Faith gently squeezes her leg, stroking it with her thumb. It’s a genuine expression of solidarity and comfort.

Buffy manages a weak smile as Faith looks her in the eyes and says with a croak in her voice, “Really can’t catch a break in this business, huh B?”   
  
They hold each other’s gaze for a few moments, and Faith is aware she should probably retract her hand, but she doesn’t. Gently, Buffy places her hand over Faith’s, turning the brunette’s mouth dry and sending warm tingles up the back of her neck.   
  
Something passes between them, in that moment. Something neither of them have allowed to entertain before, but it’s definitive this time; a distinct jolt through their eye contact and the touch of their hands. Faith’s certain Buffy must be able to hear the sound of her heart racing in her chest, and she can almost swear she hears the sound of Buffy’s heart doing the same.

_What are you doing? She needs a friend right now, not a pervert. You dog._ Faith’s horrible internal monologue rips her out of this shared warm bubble the two Slayers briefly inhabit, and she stands up, pushing a grin onto her face. She offers her hand to Buffy, “Come on, blondie, we ain’t doin’ much good hiding out here.”   
  
With a grimace, Buffy takes Faith’s hand and allows herself to be pulled upright again. In the process, she staggers a little, and Faith grabs her upper arms to keep her steady,“Easy up, ey, guess you’re still a little jetlaggy.”

Buffy smiles, stammering “Yeesh. Yeah, I’m ... I’m just so, so tired.” Her eyes drop again and the sadness returns to her face.

Faith lowers her hold on Buffy’s upper arms, with the intention of dropping them entirely. Instead, she finds herself catching onto Buffy’s fingertips with her own.

“Come on, Summers. You got work to do. But you don’t gotta do it alone anymore, ok?” Buffy looks through her eyelashes to meet Faith’s deep chestnut eyes.

Faith continues, “We’re the chosen two, remember? It was true then, it’s still true now. Giles, Willow, the next generation Slayers - all of em - they’ll never be able to understand what you go through, the weight you carry. But you and I know. That’s why you came to find me,” she curls her fingers through Buffy’s and gives them a gentle squeeze, “and I am _here_ now. I mean it. I’m really here. I ain’t going nowhere. Imma stick with you on this, we face it together, ok?”  
  
She moves to release her hands from Buffy’s, but instead is met with a strange look on Buffy’s face: lips slightly parted, the hint of a frown on her forehead. Before she can react, Buffy quickly pulls Faith into an embrace, flinging her arms around Faith’s shoulders and clinging onto her with a fierce candour. Faith’s breath catches as Buffy squeezes her tightly. Mind completely devoid of any words, all Faith can do is fold her arms around Buffy’s petite frame and return the hug.   
  
They stand in the empty corridor like that for what feels like the entire evening. In fact, they are only locked together for a matter of ten seconds or so, but it’s the most loaded and profound ten seconds Faith’s ever experienced.

Buffy gradually loosens her grip, begins to drop her arms from around Faith’s shoulders and for a beautiful second, Faith feels Buffy’s soft breath on her face, they’re so close together. She tries to imprint this moment in her mind - the feeling of Buffy’s strong back under her hands; the warmth of Buffy’s arms resting on her neck; the look on her face. Despite herself, Faith feels her mouth curl into a smile and she lets out a tiny giddy laugh. _What the hell. Giddy? I’m GIDDY?_ she thinks to herself. Still in that golden moment, the first time the two of them have ever really been physically affectionate with each other, Buffy beams up at her.  
  
Then, the next second, it’s gone. Buffy blinks, moves herself sideways and away out of Faith’s arms.“We…I gotta…go.” she mumbles, and takes off back down the hallway towards the meeting room, a slight jog in her step as she goes.  
  
Faith stands alone, speechless, still with Buffy’s perfume in her nose, heart racing in her chest. She feels like a confused teenager in Sunnydale all over again. _Shit, am I in trouble._ But, she reminds herself, she's just promised Buffy she wouldn't run away and leave her in the lurch. So, she takes a deep breath, tries to ignore the heat coursing through her body, and walks steadily back towards the meeting room.   
  
She returns to find Buffy sitting back at the head of the table, a resolute expression on her face.  
  
“Ok. If we’re gonna do this, we do it right. We do right by these girls. Maybe… this is the only way. We gave them power they shouldn’t have, I get that. Willow, Nadine, I suggest you prioritise looking into a solution for us. This is more important than finding new Slayers right now. Shall we vote?”  
  
Faith leans silently against the door, as the vote is cast she raises her hand in agreement. The motion is unanimously passed. The Foundation will refuse Angel’s offer, and develop a method of “unmaking” rogue Slayers. As soon as business is done, Faith turns on her heels and leaves the meeting room, terrified to look Buffy in the eyes.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Screw it. It's a two chapter upload day. Enjoy!

Willow slumps down in her chair, frustrated. There’s no reaction in the chemicals in the test tubes lined up in front of her, nor in any from her day’s work. She drags her eyes back over her notebook, and adds in another scribbly note next to the formula for this batch.

In the week since the Foundation board meeting, she’s had no real success in producing a suitable compound to help suppress Slayer powers. It was decided that Nadine and the Coven should do the legwork in producing the necessary memory-altering enchantment for the rogues. Willow had reluctantly accepted the board’s decision for her (initially at least) to take a step back from magic and work on the science. She was asked to recreate and improve upon the noxious injection the Watcher’s Council had inflicted on previous Slayers for their old Cruciamentum tests. Muscle relaxants and adrenaline suppressants were not enough, nor sustainable or safe. There had to be a permanence to what the Foundation was developing. One injection, ideally. It was no small task.  
  
Willow frowns at the glass vials in front of her. “Batch 27, no reaction. Kablooey. Ugh. Science is slow”, she moans to herself. She raises her eyes as Buffy enters the small workroom Willow has commandeered for her task.  
  
“Hey, lab gal. How’s it looking?” Buffy quietly enquires.   
  
“Like a whole bunch o’ nothing. I’m going through these notes Giles has given me, and all I can do is just recreate that creepy serum the Council made, which won’t be enough to have a permanent effect on our rogues.” Willow sighs, “I just need to tweak the potency, maybe add in something else I haven’t thought of yet.” She looks apologetically at the Slayer. “Sorry, Buffy. I’m doing my best, but, maybe we need a bigger nerd than me for this…”  
  
Buffy exhales, but smiles reassuringly at the redhead, “You got this, Will, I know you’ll find it. And, whatever you need, we will get for you. It’s like an all-you-can-eat science fair, ok?”  
  
Willow raises an eyebrow, “How about a couplea world-renowned chemists who specialise in supernatural ability inhibitors?”

Buffy shrugs, “Well, if you need more brains, I’m sure we can put the word out and find _someone_ who can help. Giles still has a few ex-Council contacts hiding away…”  
  
“Maybe, eventually, but I still have a couple of options to try first. Thanks.” Willow straightens her back in her chair, stretching out cramping muscles. “How are you getting on with _your_ extra help? You know, with the Slayer training?”   
  
Buffy looks down at the desk. “Faith’s…she’s doing really well. I think? She’s working hard with the newbies, seems really keen to get involved with their combat training. And, I haven’t smelt booze on her since she got here - which is a plus…” She trails off. “…she, seems a little distant with me. Everything was fine for the first few days, but now…”   
  
Willow smiles. She’d picked up a difference in Buffy’s energy after the two Slayers returned to the board meeting a week ago. It was subtle, and Willow might have thought nothing more about it. But since then, she’s noticed the same frequency change reverberating from Faith on every occasion the two were in the same room as each other. Nadine had been teaching Willow about auras and energies - how humans interact with each other on so many more levels than just the physical - and Willow could read the interplay between Buffy and Faith as clear as day. _I just wonder when they’ll figure it out for themselves…_ she muses.  
  
“Keep giving her time, Buffy. She’s adapting to massive changes. All her life, she’s believed she meant nothing to nobody. Now, she’s learning that she’s important to us, to the newbies…and to you.” Buffy’s eyes flick up to meet Willow’s. “You gotta make sure you don’t shut her out just because…maybe that scares you a little?”  
  
Buffy flops onto the stool next to Willow, sighs and rubs her head in her hands. “I…I don’t really know what’s happening, Will. I mean, this is _Faith_ we’re talking about. She who I once stabbed?! She who once terrorised everyone I know and love! Plus, you know, she’s not…man-shaped. And I, you know, I historically _like_ the man-shape…I mean…I’ve never looked at anyone who _isn’t_ man-shaped…not that there’s anything wrong with…women who don’t like man-shapes! You know what I… _UGH”_ Buffy flounders and slumps her head onto the desk with a thud.   
  
Willow chuckles, “Buffy, your head is going to explode. Stop. Why do you have to over-think so much? You’re a grown woman…this isn’t high school. You don’t have to _label_ yourself as anything. We like who we like, it’s that simple. And from where my witch-foo is pointing…you like Faith.”  
  
Buffy lifts her head - shakes it. “No, I, it’s not…I don’t know that yet. I think I’ve just been feeling… _a lot_ about Faith being here. I missed her so much, after the Sunnydale battle, yeah. As soon as I realised I liked having her around, bam, she was gone. Maybe it’s that? Maybe I just…realise her value and importance more than I did before?” Buffy looks imploringly at Willow, hoping for reassurance.   
  
“Sure, it’s not like you’ve been having naughty lusty feelings about Faith or anything….” Willow needles, knowing full well from the waves of energy Buffy’s emits around Faith that is _exactly_ what’s been happening.  
  
“OK - aura-girl, that’s cheating. Shut up.” Buffy pouts. “Maybe it’s just the Slayer connection thing we feel. The back of my neck gets all hot when she’s nearby, always has done.” Willow’s eyebrows raise as she says this, Buffy scowls, “Not like _that!!_ Well…I didn’t think it was like that…Faith did tell me once that she felt the the same thing when I was around…Maybe she doesn’t even feel that anymore, what with all the new Slayers in close proximity.”

Willow grins, “Trust me, Buffy, she feels it. Honestly, the pair of you are unbelievable!”  
  
Buffy whines, thunking her head back on the desk.  
  
“You two are only Slayers who have ever reported having a physical sensation of closeness like that. We asked some of the newbies when they first started arriving - none of them reported feeling a connection towards each other. I guess it’s something to do with the fact that you and Faith are linked by the original Slayer line? You gotta face it, Buffy,” Willow places her hand lightly on Buffy’s hair, “you and Faith are connected in a way that no other people are in the world. So, you might as well just accept it and, you know, get on with the smoochies!” she teases.   
  
Buffy makes a frustrated noise, lifts her head and swats Willow’s hand away.  
  
Willow laughs “Go find her, Buffy, stop worrying. Just, follow your heart, ok?”  
  
Buffy stands, smiles shyly. “This…this feels more scary to me than a whole heap of demons, Will. I’ve never…never done this with a…and it’s not just _any…girl…_ it’s Faith.” Buffy looks at her hands. “and, I know she’s been with at least one woman, so, we’re not on a level playing field here…”  
  
Willow stands in front of Buffy, gently lays a hand on her shoulder. “Buffy, take it from me. This bit, yeah, it’s scary, the before. The worrying, all that, it’s normal. I guarantee, _if_ something happens between you two, none of the before will matter. It’ll all melt away. I promise.” She smiles, and Buffy nods slightly. “Now, go find Faith. Don’t shut her out, ok?” She gives Buffy a brief hug.  
  
As Buffy heads to the door, Willow adds, “Ooh, and if you find Xander hanging around anywhere, can you send him my way? Giles told me to keep him busy, I think he’s already regretting flying him out here…”   
  
Buffy nods, then heads out, making her way towards the gym.

It’s getting on for two PM, and she knows Faith has another training class with a new batch of Slayers due to start any minute. The wind cuts through the courtyard as she walks, and she spies Xander just outside the building chatting with three Slayers who have obviously just finished working out. His hands are stuffed into his pockets and he’s chuckling at something one of them just said. _Not as smooth as he thinks he is._ Buffy thinks wryly. She recognises the girls though, and notes happily that they are old enough so that she doesn’t need to kick Xander’s ass for flirting with them.  
  
“Hey Buff!” Xander calls out as he sees her approach, “Charlotte was just telling me that the girls are still waiting for you and Faith to show them how sparring is really done.” He grins widely, “You, uh, in the mood for a smackdown with her today? Cos I could watch and, you know, give you pointers.”   
  
“You are only getting grosser in your old age, Xand.” Buffy smiles sweetly, then tilts her head, “Although, you know what? I could use a fight.” She ignores Xander’s “Yay!” and moves inside.  
  
She passes through several groups of young Slayers, some warming up, others warming down, then descends down the stairs into the gym’s lower level. She nods a greeting at Kennedy - already rattling out instructions to some newbies as they run blocking drills. Her heart flips in her chest as she spies Faith, getting ready to lead her next class. Neither Buffy or Faith have really allowed themselves to spend all that much time together since their embrace in the hallway last week, but remembering Willow’s words of encouragement, Buffy fixes her eyes on her target and doesn’t look away.   
  
Faith’s facing away from her, as she wraps her knuckles in white tape, then flexes her fingers and shakes her wrists out, one at a time. Her feet are bare, except for a little of the same tape around the ball and heel to give her some extra grip. On her approach, Buffy allows her eyes to appreciate Faith’s tight black sports vest, paired with some oversize grey sweatpants. Faith sweeps her long tresses back into a ponytail, as she turns to notice Buffy walking towards her. She blinks a little, then nods a greeting. Buffy finds herself entranced by the movement of muscles in Faith’s toned arms as she finishes tying her hair up.  
  
“Hey, stranger. Ain’t seen you down here in the crypt for a while.” She spreads her arms and makes a false bow “Come for the show?”

Buffy stops, unzips her own hoody, and notices Faith’s eyes tick down onto her torso. “As a matter of fact, yeah. Hope you don’t mind me crashing your class, but…” Faith’s eyes widen a little as Buffy removes her shoes and socks, “…thought maybe it was time I take you up on that offer of a sparring match.”

Buffy tries to look more confident than she feels. She wonders if she’s making a mistake by challenging Faith to spar in front of the students. She had thought it would be more sensible to have their first fight in public - she’s still scared of being that close to Faith in private. She knows (and she knows _Faith_ knows…) how “stimulating’ their fights can be, and right now she needs to have that tempered by lots of watching eyes. Just until Buffy can figure out whether Willow was talking complete nonsense earlier.  
  
Faith nods, throwing Buffy the sports tape. “Damn straight, B. Glad you could finally join us.” Then, louder, for the benefit of the room full of trainee Slayers, “Gonna get your ass handed to you, of course, but that’s a good lesson for these guys. Can’t be too cocky, no matter who you are.” Xander and Kennedy have taken a seat with the trainees; word has obviously spread quickly through the camp and pretty soon, the gym is packed full of Slayers, eager to watch the long-awaited sparring match between Buffy and Faith.

In her teeshirt and yoga pants, knuckles and feet now wrapped the same as Faith’s, Buffy steps into the centre of the room where Faith is pacing, waiting for her. They match each other’s footfalls and watch each other carefully, slowly circling in anticipation of one of them making the first move.

Faith briefly looks out at the crowd, and proclaims, “So, today’s lesson plan; watch me kick Summers’ ass, then tell me what she did wrong. Now, I don’t want to encourage no gamblin’, but if someone wants to start taking bets, that’d be five-by-f-” she stops, mid-brag, as Buffy rushes towards her, throwing a left hook at her head.   
  
Faith rears back just in time, reaches up and blocks away, before countering with a lightning quick right jab at Buffy’s face. Buffy ducks, then grabs Faith’s fist and uses her own momentum against her, swinging around so she’s behind, holding Faith in a restraint. This lasts half a second before Faith hooks her ankle around Buffy’s leg, breaks her balance and frees herself to aim another two punches at Buffy. Buffy blocks the shot to her ribs, but is caught by Faith’s pop at her jaw. Incensed, Buffy kicks Faith in the stomach, then slams a knee up high into her face.

Faith staggers back, touches a hand to her newly bleeding lip, then smiles, “There’s my girl,” she growls, then spins to throw a hugely powerful roundhouse kick to Buffy’s chest, sending her flying backwards. Winded, Buffy flips herself back up just in time to catch Faith as she barrels into her, knocking them both back flat onto the polished floor. The watching Slayers bubble with excitement - someone shouts from the back, “Come on, Buffy!” which prompts another woman to yell, “Go, Faith!” - more shouts of encouragement emerge, everyone stands up, and the noise of the crowd rises, spurring the pair on.  
  
Faith has Buffy pinned on the floor and manages to crack a three punches across her face, busting her eyebrow. Buffy manages to get her leg free and shoves Faith off, but she can’t avoid Faith smashing her elbow into her face. Both women are now bleeding freely from respective head wounds, panting as they spring up to stand against each other again.  
  
There’s a pause, Faith breathily checks in with Buffy, “You good?”   
  
Buffy breaks into a grin, ignoring the blood dripping from her eyebrow. She feels renewed, electrified - this is what she’s needed. She’s been pent up and tense all week, particularly around Faith. She knows in her gut that Faith’s felt the same. They should have done this days ago, hell, Buffy hasn’t had a decent fight in over a year. They’re Slayers; fighting is their prayer, church and pastor. “Oh I’m good, Faith. As long as you can keep up!”

Faith lets out a laugh as Buffy flies into a cartwheel towards her, kicking her in the face as she does. Faith catches Buffy’s leg and shunts it back towards her, intending to get her off-balance again. Buffy anticipates this, lands on her back foot and spins to kick Faith’s legs out from under her. The crowd is hollering at them now, (Xander stares, jaw on the floor) but all the fighters can hear are each other’s grunts and cries of exertion and pain.

Faith rights herself but Buffy’s already one step ahead - using a rack of weights to spring off and launch herself into a vicious fly kick that sends Faith spinning. Buffy’s back on her straight away, delivering jabs left and right, and it’s all Faith can do to stay standing. Finally Faith gets a strong block in, which gives her time to match and block Buffy’s following jabs. The sound of pounding fist and bone, breath and effort is drowned by the yelling Slayers surrounding them. Blow for blow, they match each other, perfectly predicting the other’s actions as they both push for an advantage. Eventually, Buffy lands a massive right hook under Faith’s chin, and the brunette staggers over onto the floor. Buffy doesn’t let up - she slams her bodyweight down on Faith, straddling her. Faith reaches up to push her off but Buffy restrains her, limb by limb, which only makes Faith angrier. Eventually, Buffy has Faith pinned to the floor in a full body hold, overpowered.

Their heavy breathing mingles as they struggle against each other, Faith refusing to give in. Buffy can no longer hear the hooting crowd - she is enthralled completely by the sound of Faith’s panting, the sensation of her lithe body writhing beneath her own legs, the feel of her soft skin under Buffy’s hands where she’s gripping her arms against the floor over her head. Buffy’s body acts of its own accord, continuing to fight Faith’s unrelenting efforts to free herself. Their eyes are locked in each other’s gaze, both their expressions intense and awestruck.

Buffy feels drunk on the fervour of their contact - the knowledge that right there, she has complete control over Faith. Her head swims, and for a fraction of a second, she shifts her weight ever so slightly, rolls her hips, and presses her abdomen down harder onto Faith's pelvis. All this is done so minutely that it’s invisible to the roaring crowd of people watching, but Buffy sees Faith’s pupils dilate, and hears her gasp out the tiniest high-pitched whimper.

A Slayer never stops trying to win, though, and Faith uses Buffy’s micro-adjustment to gain the leverage she needs to free one of her hands, cracking Buffy square across the jaw. They both roll back up into a fighting stance, dizzy with their efforts and the secret moment they just shared, in front of dozens of people. 

Buffy’s senses rush back to her - the noise and the heat of the room suddenly suffocating. She begins to become more aware of the rest of her body, the pain in her various cuts and scrapes, the aching in her ribs and chest. All of it pales in comparison to the inferno burning between her legs. Faith is clearly still angry about being pinned, and a predatory smirk graces her bleeding lips. “That all you got, girlfriend?”   
  
Buffy feels her own inner hunter roaring - everything inside her screams to go for Faith, desperate with need to beat her in the fight, as well as the need to touch her again.But she swallows this down, straightens out of her stance, turns away from Faith, and looks to address the crowd instead.The watching crowd Slayers shush each other in anticipation.   
  
“So,” (Buffy’s voice carries well, although it’s a smidge huskier than she intends) “Who won?”  
  
The Slayers look around amongst each other, and one young woman pipes up, “Buffy had the pin!”  
  
“Yeah but Faith broke out of it -”   
  
“She was gonna come back though -”   
  
“No way!”

Several voices merge over each other and some of the trainees break out in heated arguments. Buffy looks back to Faith, who’s still staring at her, slowing her breathing. As the trainees loudly disagree with each other, Buffy walks calmly to Faith, leaning in to speak softly into her ear as she passes,   
  
“…We need to finish this. My room. Ten minutes.”

Buffy can’t bring herself to look at Faith’s face, instead she keeps walking. _Oh god. Keep walking. Don’t look back. What if she’s laughing? What if she’s grossed out? What if she’s…shit. Just keep walking._ She grabs her shoes and hoody from where she left them discarded on the bench and ascends back up the stairs. Once outside, she breaks into a run, sprinting back towards her room, running away from the words she can’t believe she just uttered.


	10. Chapter 10

“We need to finish this. My room. Ten minutes.” Faith tries to keep a poker face as she hears the words from Buffy’s fight-bruised lips, but she feels her eyes widen and mouth drop open as Buffy stalks past her. _  
  
_Faith breaks the trance Buffy has left her in, acutely aware of the waves of desire still coursing through her - she’s so full of lust that she’s _certain_ everyone else in the room must be able to sense it too. It feels obscene; combined with the invitation Buffy just breathed into her ear, Faith has never been more keen to get the fuck out of that gym as soon as she can.

Luckily, most of the Slayers are still arguing or debating about who actually won the brutal fight, nobody’s paying attention as Faith finds Kennedy, quietly telling her to take over the rest of the lesson. Kennedy frowns a little as she asks, “Everything ok?”  
  
Faith tries to play it off, tugging her hair out of its ponytail, then wincing as she puts a hand to her ribs, “Yeah - blondie just did a bit of a number on me there, need to rest up a while.”  
  
Kennedy nods, and Faith grabs her heavy bomber jacket from her locker before jogging up the stairs and out of the gym.

Her heart thumps as she runs through the door into the north wing of Norton House. She wasn’t wholly lying when she told Kennedy about her injuries - Buffy really did beat the shit out of her. Faith briefly wonders if her body has ever _felt_ so much all at once. Her wounds are stinging painfully, crying out for her brain’s attention - but they’re overpowered by how turned on Faith still is. The fight itself had gotten heated quickly enough. Part of their Slayer gig, Faith knew, was that a good tussle like that gets you hungry and horny. When they were kids, Buffy had strenuously denied that she felt the same way -now it was still a running joke between the two of them. Faith knew damn well a fight would get Buffy just as riled up as her. So things were already feeling pretty hot before Buffy had somehow got the jump on Faith and pinned her to the floor. And then…she’d felt Buffy grind against her. It was tiny, (maybe unintentional?) but unmistakable. Buffy had straddled Faith, and for a second, Faith knew she’d enjoyed it. God knows Faith had enjoyed it.

Faith’s mind races and she tries to calm herself as she approaches their corridor. She’s sweating, the back of her neck tingles, and she’s not surprised to find her hand shakes a little as she reaches out to knock on Buffy’s door. She stops herself. _What if I’ve gotten this all wrong?_ she worries. _What if she’s just so pissed off at me that she wants another throwdown, or to scream at me?_ Faith retracts her hand, turns, and moves to open her own bedroom door instead. _How could you have ever thought Buffy had any interest in you? This is so stupid. She’s the straightest girl in the world. And even if she wasn’t, she’ll never see you as anything but garbage. You’re an idiot, Faith,_ some dark part her mind seethes at her. But she forces herself still, then turns back to Buffy’s door. She wrings her hands, fully immersed in this crisis of _what ifs,_ which feels completely alien to her. 

Then she remembers Buffy’s face a week ago as they’d held each other in that corridor. She remembers Buffy flirting with her in the hallway, in the canteen. She remembers Buffy’s hand reaching out for hers in the darkened car before that, and the weight of Buffy’s head as she slept on Faith’s shoulder on the plane. More than that, she remembers all those years of her own feelings, in San Diego, in prison, in Sunnydale; she’s never stopped thinking about Buffy. In a rush, it’s too much, Faith has no choice but to take the risk. She inhales deeply and knocks on Buffy’s door.

A heavy second passes, then another. The pause is excruciating, and Faith realises she’s holding her breath as she hears Buffy finally call in a flat tone, “It’s open, Faith.”

Faith slowly pushes the door open to see Buffy standing, arms crossed, looking out of her window. She’s still wearing her sweaty, bloodied workout clothing, and Faith takes a minute to assess the visible damage from the fight on Buffy. She feels a pang of guilt. “…You whole?” is all she can think to say.  
  
Buffy doesn’t look at her, but replies with a soft, croaky voice. “Yeah. Bruises, some swelling. Think you bent my arm backwards at one point…but I’m ok. You?”  
  
Faith closes the door behind her and moves towards Buffy. “No broken bones. But…that’s definitely the hardest beat down I’ve had for a good while.”This prompts no response from the blonde Slayer, still staring out the window. All at once, Faith’s enormous internal pile of feelings solidifies into something resembling anger.   
  
“What am I doin’ here, B?” she snaps, extending her arms out into a shrug. “You want to ‘finish this’? What, go for another round in here? Surprised you’d want to risk your breakables…”

Buffy turns, sighing, “I…I didn’t want to carry on our fight like that, in front of everyone. I had thought it’d be safer with everyone there, better somehow, but…”   
  
“You thought it’d be _safer_ to pound on me with everyone watching? Bullshit. Seems to me that maybe you just wanted a bit of showboating, remind everyone who the real OG Slayer is…”   
  
Buffy yells, “Enough! Faith, _please!”_ Faith blinks, as she realises Buffy is furious. “Would you just _stop_ attacking me!”   
  
Despite herself, Faith feels a laugh bubble up through her chest and out of her mouth. “You - you realise what you just said, right? You challenge me to a fight, you tell me to come up here so we can finish it - then you yell at me to stop attacking you?”

Buffy breaks into a smile, and lets out a small chuckle herself. “Yeah, I really did just say that, didn’t I. Wow.”   
  
Faith sighs, “Look, whatever’s goin’ on with you, why don’t I just go, ok? Give you some time,” Faith turns to leave.

Buffy blurts, “No, I - I don’t want any more time…”  
  
One hand on the door, pulling it open Faith calls back, “Yeah, well you obviously need _somethin-”_  
  
Faith turns to find Buffy rushing towards her, both arms extended around Faith’s body to slam the bedroom door closed behind her. Faith is immobilised with her back pressed up against the door between Buffy’s arms. Three seconds pass, as Faith hears a roaring of blood rushing in her ears, sees Buffy’s eyes flash down to her lips, a flicker of a frown on her brow. Both women are breathing heavily, the electricity from their fight instantly reactivated. Faith is paralysed, terrified of how hopeful she is.

Buffy surges forward, pushing her body up against Faith’s as she kisses her, hard. Faith’s lower lip is still sore where it was split in the fight, but the stab of pain under Buffy’s mouth only intensifies the sweetness of the sensation. She swears her heart stops, then thunders in unison with the pounding in Buffy’s chest up against hers. Faith’s lips respond to Buffy’s, pressing back firmly, her hands move to the back of Buffy’s head to pull her closer. Buffy’s hands are roaming up Faith’s back, sliding under her bomber jacket to grasp at her waist. An involuntary moan emits from Faith as she feels Buffy’s mouth open, her tongue moving its way to meet her own. Their mouths devour each other, their heads tilting to allow the kiss to deepen further.

Buffy’s gripping Faith’s hips now, and surprises Faith again by sliding her leg in between Faith’s, her knee meeting the door behind them, pressing her thigh firmly against Faith’s groin. Instinctively, Faith rolls her hips forward, the friction making her head swim. Dazed, she curves forward and back slowly, rhythmically, Buffy gasps into Faith’s kiss at the feeling.  
  
In all her sexual history, Faith has always been the one on top, the one _doing_ the doing - taking comfort in her control over the act. But never in all her (many) dreams of Buffy did she imagine that she’d be so ecstatic to be the one pushed up against a wall. Faith can feel waves of pleasure pulsating through herself with every flex of her hips against Buffy’s thigh, already feeling her wetness through her underwear meeting the seam of her sweatpants. Their kisses are desperate with need now, interspersed by gasps for air before crushing each other’s lips again.

Suddenly Buffy pushes away, grabs Faith by the lapels of her jacket, pulls her away from the door, spinning them both around.Faith’s Slayer impulses kick in, and she breaks Buffy’s hold on her jacket before she realises what she’s doing. Buffy grabs at it again, tearing it off Faith’s shoulders. This time Faith lets her, whilst her own hands find the bottom of Buffy’s teeshirt and lift it off over her blonde head. It’s discarded onto the floor, and Faith quickly tears her own vest off over her head to join it. They both pause, Buffy’s eyes wide and intense, her gaze scanning Faith’s nearly nude torso. Faith allows herself to stare at Buffy’s body, taking in her small breasts heaving beneath her sports bra. She happily notices that Buffy’s eyes are now fixed on her own ample cleavage. Faith runs her hands down the sides of Buffy’s taut stomach, pleased at the shiver this causes.

“B…” her voice soft, cracking midway, “…you wanna stop?”

Buffy doesn’t answer, but her green eyes meet Faith’s again as she places her hands on Faith’s waist. She pulls Faith closer and kisses her again, this time slower, more determinedly. The feeling of their bare stomachs pressed against each other is so potent, Faith moans into Buffy’s mouth - desperate for more contact. Buffy’s hands slide down, her fingers pulling at the top of Faith’s waistband. Faith dutifully obliges, tugging off her sweatpants and kicking them away. Standing there in her underwear in front of Buffy’s ravenous eyes, she feels more naked than she’s ever been with anyone. Buffy removes her own yoga pants to match, then pushes Faith so they fall together onto Buffy’s bed.

Faith smiles, despite herself, when she hears Buffy sigh in pleasure as she positions herself on top of Faith. The first time feeling your body next to another woman’s is an incredible event, Faith remembers, and she can’t believe she’s here to witness Buffy experience it. Faith lifts her leg to accommodate Buffy’s slender frame, one hand strokes through Buffy’s loose hair, the other slides down to caress the firm curve of her ass, thumb playing with her panties’ lace edge. Buffy props herself up on her shoulders, kisses Faith again, their bodies and tongues moving in harmony together.

Faith breaks the kiss, and sits up under Buffy a little so she can remove her own sports bra. As she throws it away, she tries to gauge Buffy’s reaction, hoping she hasn’t moved too fast. Buffy positively gawps at the sight of Faith’s bare breasts, the peaks of her dark rouge nipples pricking upright in the chill of the air. Faith can’t believe her luck when Buffy moves her head down to plant soft kisses on her chest, her hot lips grazing a path across the swell of her breasts until she takes one of Faith’s nipples into her mouth. Her tongue running across the hard nipple sends sparks through Faith' body, making her swear softly, (“Oh _fuck,_ B”) Seemingly encouraged, Buffy flicks her tongue over and around, sucking lightly, before moving to do the same to other nipple. Faith’s back arches, her head throws back into the pillow and her legs spread themselves wider. Faith feels a smile on Buffy’s lips - then a delicious grazing of teeth across the sensitive bud, releasing a loud pant from deep in Faith’s chest.

It’s too much for Faith to bear, and she pulls Buffy’s head up from her chest to kiss her intently. They’re soon breathless again, and it’s Buffy who gasps for air, then scrambles off the bed. Faith whines a little, but then her breath catches in her throat as Buffy removes her bra, then drops her underwear to the floor as well. The sight of Buffy Summers standing naked in the afternoon half-light completely awes Faith, and she blinks to find her eyes wet. 

Buffy glances down at herself self-consciously. “Am I…is it that bad?”   
  
“Jesus, B, wouldja stop that? You’re….you’re perfect…is all.” Buffy still doesn’t look comfortable. Faith rises from the bed, smiles as she bites her bottom lip, then removes her own underwear, kicking it aside.  
  
“There.” Faith breathes, “Now we’re even.” She lowers her eyes, marvelling at the soft sheen of golden skin on Buffy’s breasts, down to her navel, then further down to the light covering of golden fuzz over her mound. Such a contrast with Faith’s paler skin and dark shock of hair - she reaches out and traces a fingertip down Buffy’s stomach. Faith’s visceral desire increases as Buffy’s scent fills her nose; dried sweat and blood from the fight earlier, mingled with the smell of Buffy’s arousal from between her legs. Faith takes Buffy’s face in her hands and kisses her, much softer than before, stroking her cheeks and drawing their bodies up against each other. She feels Buffy’s hard nipples pressed against her chest, and her hands running down Faith’s sides to cup her ass. Buffy caresses Faith’s firm buttocks, then moves to trace her thumbs lightly over the front of her hips.

As Faith shifts her weight, she feels her upper thighs slip together, she’s so wet already. The feel of Buffy’s thumbs trailing over her hipbones (one of her favourite erogenous zones) is only making her hotter, and soon her knees feel weak and she sinks back onto the bed. Buffy follows her down, lying next to her, before lustily kissing her again. Faith’s tongue gently massages Buffy’s, their breaths combining, pulling them deeper into each other.

The pleasure building up in Faith’s core is only gaining momentum with every movement of Buffy’s hands over her skin, and soon she breaks their contact again, letting out a moan. Buffy looks worried, “What’s the matter? Did I do something wr…”

Faith chuckles, plants a tiny kiss on the end of Buffy’s nose, cutting her off, “Shut up, I told you, you’re perfect. It’s just…we carry on like this and I’m not gonna last long…”She raises an eyebrow, glances down at their naked bodies pressed up against each other.  
  
Buffy nods, looks away from Faith’s gaze. “Faith, you know I’ve never…with a woman…I feel like I’m gonna do everything wrong. I don’t know if I can do what you’d…what you’d like…”   
  
Faith smiles, strokes away a lock of hair which has fallen over Buffy’s sincere expression. She feels like this is the right time for _her_ to take the lead, but she’s nervous in her own way too. Faith doesn’t remember ever feeling this anxious before sex. Moreover, she’s acutely aware of how out of her comfort zone Buffy must be. Trying to set her own insecurities aside, Faith moves her mouth onto the crook of Buffy’s neck, kissing, nipping lightly at the skin there as she murmurs, “Trust me, you’re already doing everything I like…” Buffy makes a soft mew as Faith’s lips travel up the side of her neck, Faith feels a surge inside herself at hearing this and she continues to whisper, “You’re making me so fucking wet, Buffy…”  
  
Buffy cries out again, her eyes close and she rolls onto her back, pulling Faith on top of her. Faith licks and kisses her neck, cups Buffy’s breast, lightly teasing a nipple between her forefinger and thumb. “Say that again…” Buffy breathes, “…please…”

Faith growls into Buffy’s neck, “B, you’re making me so wet - ”  
  
“N…no, Faith, say my name…don’t call me B…”

Faith pauses momentarily, then moves her mouth up to graze the delicate skin of Buffy’s ear with her lips, “Buffy…” she exhales in a low, raspy voice, running the tip of her tongue across Buffy’s earlobe, “You’re making me so fucking wet, Buffy…”

Buffy arches her back up and whimpers, before scratching her fingertips down Faith’s back to grab hold of her ass, pulling her even closer. Faith moves her lips down Buffy’s body, her tongue teasing each of her erect peach-pink nipples in turn, then down the toned lines of her stomach. She moves to continue lower with her mouth, but Buffy stops her, pulling her face up gently to meet her gaze.

“Faith, I...I want to touch you. I want to feel...”

At this, Buffy moves her hand from Faith’s shoulder and slides it down Faith's front to her waist, then down further to gently stroke the soft dark hair between Faith’s legs. This seems to ignite something primal in Buffy, and her nerves seem to dissolve as she strokes three fingers across Faith’s soaked entrance. Buffy and Faith both whimper at the feeling -Faith’s holding herself up on her arms on top of Buffy, but she can feel herself trembling.

Buffy begins to apply light pressure, sliding two fingers up and down each side of Faith’s swollen clitoris. Faith feels dizzy again, her hips grinding involuntarily against Buffy’s hand in time with her strokes. Soon she’s gasping, dropping her head down onto Buffy’s shoulder and biting down, probably firmer than she means to. Instinctively, Buffy rolls the two of them so she’s now on top, to Faith’s amazement. She goes with it, admiring Buffy’s desire to take the lead. She spreads her legs wider, locking her arms around Buffy’s smooth back, kissing her deeply.

Buffy watches Faith’s eyes as she resumes the luscious friction between her legs, her expression a mixture of earnest and astonished, like she can’t quite believe what she’s doing. Faith manages to shift one of her thighs up to rub against Buffy’s centre, bowled over by the wetness upon contact. With each of Buffy’s strokes, Faith bends her knee slightly, causing her thigh to thrust upwards. Buffy’s face is _delicious,_ Faith happily notes to herself, every time this happens, and soon she’s driving herself down onto Faith’s thigh as well as working her hand to pleasure Faith.

Just watching Buffy’s face would have been enough to push Faith over the edge. What Buffy was doing with her fingers, though, was exquisite, and soon enough, Faith feels the low tingling of her orgasm beginning to build at the base of her spine. Buffy adjusts her hand and instinctively slips a finger inside Faith - they both cry out. _I can’t believe Buffy Summers is fucking me…_

The back of Faith’s neck is on fire, an evolution of the tingle she’s felt historically whenever her and Buffy share any sort of moment together. Now, the tingle is a blaze, and she feels Buffy’s hips curl more sharply as she rides her thigh. Faith knows that they’re both close - their shared ecstasy even more delectable in anticipation of what they both know is going to happen.

“Buffy,” Faith moans, “Don’t stop, I’m gonna come…”  
  
The groan Buffy makes is almost feral, then she gasps, “Oh god, Faith, me too…”  
  
Faith is so near to her tipping point that time seems to slow down, prolonging the inevitable in an awesome, blinding way. She resists the urge to shut her eyes, wanting to watch every second of Buffy’s face in front of her as they both reach their climaxes together. Buffy’s mouth curls in an “o” and she arches her back, crying out as if in pain. Faith loses control then, curling her body up to cling onto Buffy, pressing herself harder onto Buffy’s hand. She feels a shudder pass through the centre of herself and reverberate out through her extremities, then clutches on to Buffy, digging her fingertips into her toned shoulder. In that moment she physically cannot get close enough - she wills their bodies to impossibly merge together. Exhausted, she flattens her legs and Buffy collapses on top of Faith, both panting and slippery with sweat.

They lie there together, for some time, as the winter afternoon fades. Faith absent-mindedly runs her fingertips lightly up and down Buffy’s spine. She can feel her heart working its way back down to a steady beat against Buffy’s cheek. Eventually, impossibly, Faith begins to doze, recognising that Buffy is doing the same, lying on her chest. Naked, limbs tangled together on the bed, they begin to fall asleep with one another. This is easily the most intimate thing that’s ever happened to Faith, she realises. Normally, this is where she’d be kicking _whoever_ out, or she’d be up and running herself. But all she can do is wish that the rest of the world melt away, time stop, and nothing ever interrupt the perfect moment captured here in this room. Faith knows then, with perfect clarity, that she’s done for; she never wants to fuck, or to be fucked by anybody else ever again.

_She’ll freak out and realise the trash she’s rolling in soon,_ Faith’s internal monster hisses. For once in her life, Faith makes the decision to ignore herself, and just smiles happily, shifts slightly under Buffy’s warm body, lays her hand on the blonde head across her chest, and allows herself to drift off to sleep. 


	11. Chapter 11

Xander runs towards the new library, panic setting in. “Giles! _Giles!_ ” He calls, as he bursts through the door. He finds Giles, Willow and Dawn sat calmly at a large heavy desk, around an open box of pastries. Dawn is reading a newspaper with her mouth full, clutching an apple turnover in one hand. Willow is pouring over her notebooks and a particularly enormous chemistry manual, Giles has his phone in one hand, staring perplexedly at it, a jam doughnut in the other. They all look up sharply at Xander’s rather dramatic entrance.   
  
“…yes?” Giles responds, confused.

“Have you seen Buffy? Or Faith? Man, the fight they got into earlier in the gym, it was…it was really something else. I hadn’t realised they’d both skiddaddled afterwards til just now.” Xander is genuinely worried, panting a little from his run. _I have got to get back into doing some exercise._ Xander scolds himself.

“They could be anywhere, I’m think doing each other some serious damage. Hell, they coulda killed each other already - we gotta find em!”, he continues, his voice rising in pitch. Still, he’s met with raised eyebrows and unconcerned stares from the group. “Why is nobody else panicking? Slayers at war? Hello?”, he asks, increasingly frustrated. 

Willow makes an odd face, but Xander recognises it as the face she makes when she’s trying to appear innocent but knows more than she’s letting on. “Um…I’m sure they were just, you know, training the newbies, Xander. Showing them how it’s done.”  
  
Xander scoffs, “You guys weren’t _there._ You didn’t see it. I’ve seen them training, but I’ve never seen them go for each other like that before.”He notices Willow avoiding his eyes, as she reaches out for a croissant.  
  
Dawn smiles at him, shaking her head, “Xand, Buffy and Faith have been so good together lately, you’re worrying too much. They’re getting on great! I really don’t think we have any need to suspect they’re gonna murder each other. Right, Giles?”   
  
Giles nods, mouth full of doughnut, “Indeed - I must say, Xander, your concern is touching, but, I think, unnecessary. I’m sure they both just needed to cool off after their fight.”  
  
Xander shakes his head. “I’m telling you, guys, there was something off about that match between them!”  
  
Willow tilts her head, “OK, tell you what, I can check in on Buffy’s aura - see what she’s feeling right now. It’s not as invasive as, you know, popping into her head for a chat, but it’ll let me see whether she’s safe, or in pain.”  
  
Nodding, Xander leans his hands against the back of a chair, “ _Thank you,_ Will, yes. Please check.”  
  
Willow straightens her back, closing her eyes. “It’ll just take me a sec to tune in.”  
  
Xander “Yeah well we might wanna be quick about it - who knows how many chunks they’ve torn out of each other by n-”   
  
Willow shushes him impatiently, frowning. Xander shuts up.The group watch as Willow’s face turns calm, Xander notices her eyeballs moving quickly behind her eyelids. Around ten seconds later, Willow’s eyes fly open and she lets out a soft, “woah…”as she stands up from the desk.  
  
“What is it? Buffy’s in trouble, isn’t she? Goddamit, Will!” Xander exclaims.

“N-no, she’s…she’s not, Xander. She’s safe. She’s with Faith, they’re both…fine. No danger.” Willow places herself back down steadily at the table, a red blush rising to her cheeks.“No need to panic!” 

Xander holds out his hands, “What does that even mean though?”  
  
Willow stammers, avoiding eye contact with anyone at the table, “They’re…you know…working things out between them…”  
  
“Right, but we can’t just let em keep fighting! It’s been like over an hour since their fight, you’re telling me they’re still going at it?”  
  
Willow blushes harder now, quietly and carefully choosing her words. “We need to leave them to it, they’re still..well…I never said they were fighting, Xander.”

Dawn lets out a soft “oh” as she slowly nods and sits back from her newspaper. Giles and Xander exchange looks, none the wiser. 

———————————————————-

Buffy wakes suddenly and she sits bolt upright, instinctively, as she hears her bedroom door click shut. She glances down at herself, and grimaces. She’s completely naked, so she can see the dried blood and bruises covering her body all too clearly. Her mind catches up, she realises she’s alone in her room. In a second, the events of the afternoon come flooding back to her, and her breath catches in her throat as she remembers all of it.  
  
 _Guess Faith’s mantra is still ‘get some, get gone’._ Buffy thinks sadly to herself, feeling like a foolish teenager for expecting anything else. _Maybe Faith thinks they’ve made a massive mistake, or maybe I just wasn’t very good_ … _damn. This really never does get easier. Thought it might be different this time,_ she laments as she begins the process of peeling herself off the bed, untangling her legs from the sheets. Her limbs and ribs ache from their earlier fight, and her movement is laboured. She hasn’t had the shit kicked out of her like for a long time. Before she can get herself upright, she hears the bedroom door open, and her heart jumps into her mouth. She wriggles under the sheet again, embarrassed by her nakedness. 

Faith enters and closes the door behind her, wearing a fluffy white dressing-gown and carrying a towel and a small pile of clean clothes. She glances at Buffy, then breaks out into a smile when she sees her awake and hiding under the sheet. “Aah, dammit, I didn’t mean to wake ya,” She places the clothes onto a chair, heads over to the bed and sits on the edge next to Buffy. “Didn’t want you thinking I’d split, so I tried to sneak out and back in whilst you were still asleep.”A half smile brings out a dimple in Faith’s cheek, as she reaches out to stroke Buffy’s hair.   
  
Buffy’s feels her heart fill up again, and she takes Faith’s hand in hers. “Is it wrong that I was worried you’d gone?”   
  
“Nah,” Faith softly intones, watching Buffy through her long dark eyelashes. “I don’t have a good track record. Hell, for a second when I woke up, I thought I was gonna run too.” She gently takes Buffy’s cheek in her palm, looks into her eyes and says, earnestly, “I’m not making the same mistakes with you, B. I’ve waited years for you…I ain’t about to fuck this up cos of my stupid pride.”  
  
Buffy feels her eyes begin to fill with tears, as Faith confirms what she’s probably always known. There has always been something between them; it just took Buffy longer to accept it.

“But, shit I have _got_ to get showered. I am dis-gus-ting.” Faith stands up from the bed, making a face down at herself. “Imma use yours though, cos it looks way bigger than mine!” Buffy smiles, laying back down. She watches Faith disappear into her bathroom, hears the water turn on, then giggles as Faith’s bathrobe is flung onto the bathroom floor. Then, Faith pokes her head around the doorframe, her long brown locks trailing down. With a wicked grin, she eyes up Buffy, playfully purring, “So you gettin’ in here or what?”  
  
Her heart starts thumping, a sudden throb of heat courses through her centre and Buffy wraps the sheet around herself before hopping off the bed. Faith’s grin widens, laughing a little at Buffy’s awkward shuffle in the massive sheet. “That sheet ain’t comin’ through this door, kay?”  
  
Buffy enjoys the unfamiliar feeling of being brazen as she drops the sheet from round her shoulders. She revels at the sight of Faith’s pupils darkening, her eyes wandering over Buffy’s nude body. The pleasure of finally being able to be honest and sexual with Faith was so freeing and exciting. The heat growing between Buffy’s thighs is stoked to blazing when she rounds the doorframe to see Faith standing in the steamy bathroom in all her naked glory. _How could I never have realised how much I wanted this?_ Buffy wonders to herself, her eyes lingering on the swell of Faith’s breasts, down to her soft stomach and her strong muscular thighs.

“Get in here, Summers.” Faith takes Buffy’s hand and guides her into the massive walk-in shower - the rainfall showerhead in the ceiling cascades down lush hot water over their heads. They both giggle at the sensation, Buffy taking a second to revel in how beautiful Faith looks even with her wet hair being plastered onto her head. “Oh, we gotta get _clean!”_ Faith laughs and the pair of them spend a couple of minutes relishing the feeling of soaping and rinsing the dirt from their skin. Watching her rinse white sweet-smelling foam from her skin, Buffy reaches out a hand to the large splattering of purple bruises across Faith’s stomach. Her feelings of concern and guilt escalate, as her eye is drawn to the remnants of the massive scar she inflicted years ago.

Faith follows her gaze, and takes her hand, kissing her fingers lightly. “Don’t sweat it, ok? I’m fine. Besides, not like I didn’t rough you up just the same,” she tips her head to indicate the spread of blue-black bruising covering Buffy’s right-hand ribs.   
  
“Yeah, still, I don’t feel great about it.” Buffy draws herself in closer to Faith, the flow of water landing between their bodies, “Next time we spar, let’s not try to kill each other, huh?”   
  
Faith tilts her head, wraps her arms over Buffy’s shoulders. “Hell no, I ain’t agreeing to that. You and me fighting all out, it’s what got us so fucking worked up”. Her husky voice feels like dark, melted sugar thickly pouring its warmth all around Buffy’s loins. “Don’t you dare go holding back on me ever again…”  
  
The feeling of Faith’s rock-hard nipples wet under the shower sliding against Buffy’s soaked skin is too much for Buffy to bear, and she grabs Faith into a kiss. Their wet mouths glide across each other, tongues caressing, moving as if dancing. Faith gently pushes Buffy back against the tiles, out from under the torrent. She strokes Buffy’s ass, growling, “I got unfinished business with you, Buffy.”  
  
Her breath coming faster, Buffy quivers at hearing Faith say her name in a tone dripping with lust. “…Yeah? What’s that?” she manages to reply, her voice breaking.   
  
Faith looks down, takes a grip on Buffy’s left thigh with one hand, still holding her ass with the other. Pointedly, slowly, Faith pushes Buffy’s legs apart, placing her left foot on a low shelf in the shower, knocking over some bottles of shampoo in the process. Buffy is now very, _very_ exposed - her left leg bent at the knee and up to one side, the warm steam from the shower meeting the wetness of her sex.   
  
“What a _helpful_ place to put a shelf!” Faith jokes, before kissing Buffy deeply again, her hands grabbing her hips, pressing her body in between Buffy’s legs. Buffy groans into Faith’s open mouth, feeling herself melt as Faith slowly, deliberately begins thrusting her pelvis gently up against Buffy’s bared clitoris.  
  
Waves of pleasure flow through Buffy, she emits a little gasp with each drive forward Faith makes, wet bodies sliding up against each other perfectly. Soon, she finds her hands gripping Faith’s ass, urging her onwards as she undulates forward and back. Faith’s head is buried in Buffy’s neck, leaving hot kisses and gentle bites. Then Faith stops moving - leans back for a moment, kisses Buffy’s gasping lips, then lifts an eyebrow cheekily. Buffy’s confused for second at the pause, then her eyes go wide as Faith’s kisses travel down Buffy’s glistening breasts and down the midline of her stomach.   
  
“Oh - my - god.” Buffy breathes, realising Faith’s plan as the brunette gets on her knees. Faith takes her time kissing the hollows under Buffy’s hipbones, then moves to lap her tongue up the inline of Buffy’s left thigh. She stops short of where Buffy craves her mouth to land, driving her more and more crazed with need. Eventually, Buffy catches Faith just _staring_ at her exposed self - and she feels a twinge of self-consciousness break through her arousal. As if aware of this, Faith smiles, and returns her mouth to Buffy’s flesh. “You really are perfect…all of you …” she breathes, and the sensation of her hot breath on Buffy dissolves her shyness completely.

Faith plants a soft kiss on the top of Buffy’s hood, then _finally_ runs her tongue gently up her slit. The contact makes Buffy whimper loudly in pleasure, and she has to use her hands to brace herself up against the tile wall, not trusting her legs not to give way. Faith dips her tongue inside Buffy, gripping onto her thighs to help her push deeper. Faith makes a low hum of pleasure as she does this, sending vibrations all through Buffy’s body in a way she’s never felt before.  
  
She moves her mouth upwards slightly, using her lips to caress Buffy’s clitoris, then makes a delicate seal around the swollen bud. Buffy feels punch-drunk, as Faith begins to rhythmically, gently suck, every now and then flickering her tongue with butterfly-lightness. Buffy groans uncontrollably, and looks down to find her own hands are now tangled up in Faith’s wet hair, grasping her head as she works Buffy unrelentingly. This sight of Faith’s dark head between her legs is beyond sublime, Buffy enjoys the view of her moving her head back and forth as she moves her mouth expertly.  
  
When Buffy thought it couldn’t get any more intense, Faith releases her hold from Buffy’s left thigh and slides two of her fingers inside. She co-ordinates her hand and her mouth to move in sync with each other, each suck of her lips shortly followed by a persistent thrust of her hand, then a flick of her tongue. Buffy can’t remember ever feeling white hot pleasure like this before, and knows she won’t last long. Already she’s panting, instinctively driving her hips forward to match Faith’s rhythm.

In the seconds she becomes aware of her orgasm beginning to build, it rushes through her like wildfire - she wails softly - but it doesn’t dissipate quickly like she expects. Instead, Faith continues to suck methodically; with the pump of her fingers she curls them slightly upwards. It’s all Buffy can do not to scream as she feels a second pulse of orgasm blaze up and down her entire body, and she twists her fingers through Faith’s hair, shamelessly grinding herself up against her face. Buffy’s knees really do start to give way now, her legs trembling. Faith gives one final, languid lick up Buffy’s slit, lapping up the sweet liquor of her ecstasy, before she stands to catch Buffy in her arms, holding her upright.

The two stand clinging to one another tightly. Buffy’s body still reverberates with afterglow, her mind beautifully empty of any solid thoughts. She’s completely enchanted by her senses; the physical, all of them striving to totally absorb the experience of their naked, soaked embrace; but also, her Slayer awareness of Faith’s proximity has gone beyond overdrive - now the back of her neck pulses vibrantly. It’s not a prickle or a heat burning, right now it’s a _sureness,_ a _safeness_ that she’s never felt before. Faith’s hands stroke down the small of Buffy’s back as they hold each other, and Buffy just _knows_ Faith is feeling the same.  
  
Faith strokes up Buffy’s arms, her wet skin beginning to chill. “You’re all goose-pimply, baby.” she whispers softly.   
  
_Baby?_ Buffy thinks, smiling, and considers ribbing Faith for it, but stops herself as she realises how much she liked hearing Faith call her that. Instead, Buffy gently shuffles her feet, guiding Faith backwards with her until they’re both standing under the hot stream of the shower. “Let’s finish up and get out of here before we both drown. Besides, we’ve probably used up all the hot water in the building…” 

The two of them have a final rinse, then Faith turns off the dial. They walk onto the cold tile of the bathroom, and Buffy wraps a soft white towel around herself before picking up Faith’s discarded bathrobe from the floor. She wraps it around Faith’s shoulders, gently moving her wet dark locks out of the way. “Now,” Buffy purrs, “It’s my turn to pay you back…” She leans in close to kiss her, their mouths fitting together perfectly again. 

Faith gently pulls away though after a little time, smiling shyly as she says, “It don’t work like that, ok? I wanted…I wanted so badly to do that to you. The _doing_ gave me plenty, you know? We’re not quid pro quo here. Sometimes, I’m just gonna want to treat you. You don’t owe me anything back, B.”  
  
Buffy takes this in, nods her understanding. “I get it. I’m new to this - all of this. But, I trust you, Faith. God, I…I hadn’t realised how much I trust you. So much.”  
  
Faith kisses Buffy with a gentle intensity, wrapping her arms around her. “This is new to me too, ok?” she glances the tip of Buffy’s nose with her own. “I’ve been with women, yeah. But, Buffy, you’re something else. I feel like this is all the first time for me as well.”   
  
Buffy lets out a playful scoff. “Ummm, what you just did to me in that shower…that isn’t novice stuff. That was… _mind_ blowing, Jedi-level powers.”

Faith shakes her head gently, “Listen, I have _never_ had sex like this before.” she gently runs a thumb down the back of Buffy’s neck. “I think it’s partly cos of _this,_ you know?”   
  
Buffy nods, reaches her own hand to gently caress a line up and down the back of Faith’s neck. They both shiver a little at the shared contact. “Yeah,” she whispers. “It’s…it’s incredible, whatever it is. I only ever felt it, like, buzz a little before, when I was really up close to you, or fighting with you.” Her stomach flutters as she watches Faith close her eyes, clearly enjoying the sensation of Buffy’s light touch. “But, my god, when we do… _that_ together…it’s a whole ‘nother level.”  
  
They hold each other, savouring the new experience of all-encompassing closeness between them, emotionally, but also as Slayers. Buffy wonders if any two people had ever felt so intrinsically connected before, then decides she doesn’t care.  
  
“It’s not just the Slayer thing, though, you know that, right?” Faith murmurs into Buffy’s shoulder. Buffy stands back a little to meet Faith’s eyes, seeing vulnerability there. 

Trying to convey as much reassurance and security as possible in her returning gaze, Buffy strokes Faith’s cheek and smiles, “Oh yeah. I get it.”  
  
Buffy tilts her chin up to brush Faith’s lips with her own, eager to let Faith know she wasn’t alone, to kiss away her fears and her doubts. She feels a surge of warmth through the pit of her stomach as Faith sweeps her arms tighter around her.   
  
The intimate warm haze of their kisses is broken abruptly by a harsh rapping at Buffy’s bedroom door.  
  
“Buffy? Buffy!” Xander’s voice is shrill and nasal with worry. “Willow told me not to check - but - are you ok? Did Faith hurt y-”   
  
Without waiting for a response, he pushes open the door just as Buffy and Faith separate from each other’s arms. Buffy grasps at the towel fastened at her breast, Faith tugging her bathrobe back closed around herself. (Buffy’s arms had snaked their way underneath the fabric during their embrace)Xander freezes in the doorway, his eye bulging, his mouth hanging open.  
  
“ _Jesus,_ Xander! What the hell!” Buffy exclaims, furious at his intrusion, and not a little embarrassed.   
  
“Nice timing, as ever, Harris.” Faith sneers, crossing her arms. 

Xander’s head comically ticks back and forth between the two, like he’s watching a high speed tennis match. He swallows hard, eyeing up their state of undress, cogs of his brain obviously whirring, then manages, “… _gyuhhhh!”  
  
“_Yeah _, exactly.”_ Buffy yells, “Do you mind? Shut the door. We’ll be downstairs soon.”

Xander slowly backs out of the room, silently, closing the door behind him.   
  
“Don’t think I’ve ever actually seen him speechless before…” Buffy muses,  
  
Faith nods, “I think we broke him.” The pair break into a laugh, then Faith gathers Buffy into her arms once again. “We probably got everyone worried though, we’ve been up here for a good while.”   
  
Buffy realises her cheeks hurt from smiling so much, as she kisses Faith’s chin, then her lips, then stretches up to plant a final kiss on her brow. She feels such a lightness throughout her, and realises she doesn’t feel worried about anyone knowing, or what anyone might think about her and Faith. She’s too damn… _happy. Well. There’s something I really don’t feel every day._  
  
They dress, comfortable in their silence, then Faith takes Buffy’s hand as they leave the bedroom and make their way together downstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're still here, ta very much! I'm pretty much at the point of posting chapters as they're written, so it's likely to be longer between updates from now on. I PROMISE I will be finishing this story though, fear not. I've loved writing it, and I am really excited to tie things all together.


	12. Chapter 12

Xander sits, cross-legged, at the desk, jiggling his knee quickly, trying to focus on the important conversation happening. But his eyeline keeps being drawn to Faith, and then to Buffy, sitting next to her at the head of the meeting room table. Back and forth, his eye glances, whilst his brain tries to quieten the thoughts screaming in his head. _THEY ARE FUCKING? THEY ARE. FUCKING. BUFFY and FAITH. ARE. FUCKING._ He isn’t sure how everyone else seems so goddamn calm, ignoring this fact that has shaken his entire world view. 

He briefly shakes his head, trying to throw the myriad of smut and disbelief from his brain. It’s been two days since he walked in on _whatever_ he walked in on. The two Slayers haven’t exactly opened up a dialogue with everyone to disclose anything, but equally they weren’t hiding the fact that there’s been a dramatic shift in their dynamic. Instead of her usual brand of surly-flirtatious, Faith has been softer, noticeably gentler around Buffy; metaphorically puffing her chest less. Like she’s relaxed somehow, not trying so hard to project this tough-cookie face. _It’s a good look on her_ , Xander thinks. And Buffy, well, Xander is frustrated that he can’t really read his best friend like maybe he once could. He’s noticed Buffy is smiling more, that’s for sure. But also he’s noticed her deep in thought a lot, like her brain is always somewhere else. _Unless Faith is in the room…then it’s a whole different ballgame. It’s like nobody else is there. X_ ander notes not a small amount of bitterness as he becomes absorbed in this. _Jealous, much?_

Of course he was jealous. He’s spent the last god-knows how many years with Buffy, not like he’s _in_ love with her…well, not really…but he does love her, he knows that. He’s struggled every time he’s watched Buffy get a new beaux, a lot of his feelings come from being overprotective, and it’s no different this time around. Even if he puts aside the revelation that one of his best friends might be gay ( _or gay-ish, at least…_ ), Faith is, historically, not somebody he would trust not to hurt Buffy. He remembers his own experiences with Faith, _god, I was just a kid,_ he thinks, briefly feeling sorry for his younger self for having such an unromantic, meaningless first experience of sex; _but then, so was she…_

His leg jiggles faster, so much that Dawn glances over at him, an eyebrow raised. He forces himself to stillness, snaps his attention back to the room.Nadine is in the middle of talking, and Xander feels twinge of guilt that he’s not been following her at all.

“… spell is very nearly suitable. With access to the Scythe, the Coven and I believe truly we will have the level of fine tuning necessary to raise a test-cast.”   
  
Giles nods, clearly impressed. Buffy and Faith share a look, before Buffy speaks, “That’s incredible. It sounds - it sounds perfect. The Scythe is, of course, at your disposal. Right?”  
  
It’s not immediately clear who Buffy’s asking. Although the Scythe belongs, technically, to _all_ Slayers now, nobody has wielded it since the Battle Of Sunnydale. It’s still highly revered, and as such is housed securely within the armoury of the Foundation. Everyone hopes there will neverbe a need for it to be swung again. 

There are general murmurs of agreement around the table, Willow nods and agrees, “Yeah, whatever primal Slayer energy is in that thing, it’s still there after we…after I…activated all the potentials. I didn’t take anything away from it, just sorta…borrowed.”  
  
Kennedy is sat at her left hand side, nudges her gently. “Tell em about your formula, Will!”  
  
Willow smiles shyly, “I was _gonna_ ,” she mumbles to Kennedy. The redhead sits up a little in her chair, looks to Nadine to check she was finished speaking. Nadine nods once, elegantly handing the floor to Willow.  
  
Xander has often found himself just _watching_ Nadine in the time he’s been at the Foundation. Every move she makes - even for incidental actions like making a cup of coffee, or opening a door - is done so smoothly, with such intrinsic levels of grace, that Xander finds her completely captivating. He’s in awe of her, especially after Willow had informed him that she thinks Nadine to be the most powerful witch she’d ever worked with, despite her young years. Even his stupid Xander brain knows to mind his p’s and q’s around Nadine - recognising her for the ethereal being she is.

Willow clears her throat, and Xander notices the dark semicircles under her eyes, sees her skin even paler milk-white than it usually is. _When was the last time she got a good night’s sleep?_ he wonders.  
  
“So, I’ve, had a little progress. It’s not perfect, at all, and still way behind what we need it to be. But, I’ve managed to synthesise a sort of, new chemical bind. It means that, although the effects aren’t quite right yet, I’ve fixed the permanence problem. Once I crack the rest of it, at least we know it’ll stick - super potent. No more wearing off after a few days.”   
  
Giles takes his glasses off, leans forward over the table, “Willow, are you saying that potentially this could be _one_ injection?”   
  
Willow shakes her head. “Not one. I don’t think I could develop anything administered in one shot that wouldn’t be lethal. But, less than five injections? That’s where we’re at. I feel like three would be achievable, to create a safe, permanent reversal of physical Slayer strength.”   
  
“Good lord, Willow. That’s…that’s incredible.” Giles exhales. “You should be very proud.”  
  
Kennedy snuggles into Willow’s arm, “She’s still the bomb.”A weak smile reaches the corners of Willow’s tired eyes.

Faith nods. “That’s awesome, Red.” She looks back to Giles, a hardened expression on her face, “Any more from Angel? Wolfram and Hart gotta be pissed about us rejecting their little offer...”

Giles looks gravely back at her, “Yes, in fact. Angel has...increased his price. He is now offering a hundred thousand dollars per rogue slayer. It’s safe to say, this _acquisition_ is obviously very important to him.” A few hushed murmurs rumble from around the table.

Buffy lets out a bitter laugh, raising an eyebrow, “He really thinks he can just throw money at us, like that’ll work? Does he know that we don’t need the cash?”   
  
“Honestly I’m not certain what Angel, or Wolfram and Hart know about us. I’m fairly sure we can assume they know everything. In which case, yes, it does seem surprising that he might think we’d be swayed by that offer of cash. I believe it’s more likely that this is another of a show of power from him - his resources really are limitless. He wants us to know that.”

Faith sighs, shaking her head. “Maybe…” she looks to Buffy, “…maybe I should speak to him? He’s talked me down in the past, we always managed to, you know, reach each other, whatever bullshit was happening. I feel like I should try, you know?”  
  
Buffy doesn’t respond, just blinks several times then looks away from Faith, sadly. Xander bristles in his seat, remembering all-too-clearly the phonecall Buffy and him had shared - hearing the state Buffy was in after the last time she’d spoken to Angel.

Xander had been somewhere in the middle of ass-knows-where in Missouri, calling to check on her from a rusty old payphone. Between sobbing and yelling, Buffy had filled Xander in on her exchange with Angel. He had summoned Buffy to LA for a meeting, once Sunnydale had fallen. She’d gone to meet Angel at the top of his ivory tower, so to speak. He, and a couple of suited Wolfram and Hart lawyers had stated in no uncertain terms that she, as well as any other Slayers, were to report directly to Angel before taking any further action when it came to battling any new evil forces they encountered. They predicted a power-vacuum as a result of California’s Hellmouth collapsing, and they were concerned about dire consequences for a number of their clients this might affect.

_“He was protecting his fucking clients, Xander. That’s who he helps now. The rich and the evil. They - he - made it sound like I’d done something wrong by destroying Sunnydale. His clients were worried at the shift in power after such a massive win for the forces of good.”_ Xander could swear he heard her heart breaking over the phone; it sounded like the words, and the realisations of the truth were being wrenched painfully from her as she spoke.

_“He sounded so damn angry, when he talked about the amulet, and what Spike did. When he’d given the amulet to me, Angel… I think he knew I wouldn’t let him wear it, he was playing me.I…I think he knew I’d give it to Spike….and that it would kill him.”_

Buffy had wept bitterly, as she’d told Xander this. The memory of Spike bursting into flame was still really raw for her, he knew. As much as Xander had truly hated Spike when he was around, even he had to admit, the guy had willingly sacrificed his life to save world, and that made him a hero in everybody’s eyes. _Just like Anya…_

_“And then, he told me I was messing up the balance of the world, seriously messing in the affairs of the Higher Powers. He ordered me to submit the New Guardian Foundation under his command. God, it was all I could do to get out of there without trying to stake the bastard.”_ Xander had told Buffy she should have fucking done it, but that had only made her cry harder.

Bringing himself back into the meeting room, Xander hears Buffy calmly retelling this story of her meeting with Angel (or more, the gist of it) for Faith’s benefit. He marvels at how still she manages to keep her voice, despite the hurt he knew she was still feeling.

“…Since then, we know he’s only inveigling himself further into the world’s inner circles of evil. The things he’s done to get to the levels of power he has…there’s no coming back for him. And he’s made no secret about the fact he hates the Foundation, hates what we’re doing -he’s desperate to control it.” More softly, she looks into Faith’s fallen face. “He’s _done,_ Faith.” Xander sees her move her arm slightly, knowing she is grasping Faith’s hand just out of view under the table, as she continued, “I promise, if there was a way back for him, I would be pushing for that too. But he has made - and continues to make - his choices very clearly. He’d destroy us in a heartbeat if he could.”

Faith holds her eye contact with Buffy, as if searching for any sign that what she’s saying might not be true. Finally, she looks down and sighs, hiding her eyes behind her long dark hair. Xander thinks he can see a slight flush to the tip of her nose to indicate she’s holding back tears.  
  
A moment later, Faith nods, clears her throat, and looks back up at the rest of the meeting members. “So. Do we think he’s just gonna accept it if we keep saying no? I mean, it sounds like he’s got more than enough power to just storm this place and take the rogues from us.”   
  
Buffy sighs, “I’ve been worried about that too. We need to beef up our security, I think…I think we should seriously consider the possibility of an attack from Wolfram and Hart.”   
  
Xander snorts a little, then feels self-conscious as everyone looks at him. “Sorry, it’s just…attack of the lawyers, you know? Dweebs in suits, versus hundreds of trained Slayers. Funny.”   
  
Giles works a muscle in his jaw, looking annoyed. “Wolfram and Hart have all manner of evil power at their disposal, Xander. Demons, magicks, weaponry we can’t even imagine. Now is not the time for jokes.”  
  
“Is it _ever_?” Xander quips, then withers slightly under the stare Giles sends back his way.

“OK - so how about we put the word out around the camp, we’re no longer just training for standard Slayer-duties. We need to set up perimeter guard shifts, train harder, get everybody sharper.” Faith offers, and is met with nods from Kennedy and Chao-Ahn. Faith sets her jaw, an icy expression crosses her face, “And we need to get the message across to Angel. Tell him - tell Wolfram and Hart - to back off, once and for all.”   
  
“H-how do we do that?” Dawn asks.  
  
Faith looks at Buffy, then sets her left hand palm up on the table, offering it to her. Buffy meets her eyes, then slowly sets her right hand in Faith’s. The two clasp hands, in clear view of everyone. At the sight of the contact between Buffy and Faith, Xander sees Willow beaming softly at Buffy, Giles’s eyebrows are raised, and Andrew audibly gasps. There is rapt attention in the room, waiting for Faith to continue.

“We figure this _unmaking_ process and make damn sure it’s foolproof. Nobody tells us we can’t handle the rogues. Then, we send him a couple of Slayers…”   
  
Buffy takes a deep breath in, before continuing Faith’s sentence as if it were her own, “…and we give him our own Cease and Desist notification. The kind that he either agrees to, or he dies.”

“Damn right. Bet the fucker won’t feel so world-powerful when faced with the two of us, together.” Faith grins.

“One of him, two of us. I like those odds.” Buffy throws a quick grin at Faith, before squeezing her hand, gently releasing it, and re-addresses the table.

“We show that we have this situation under control, then…then we go to him. We don’t wait. We show up, uninvited - and we tell him that _all_ Slayers, now and forever, are the New Guardian Foundation’s jurisdiction. The rogues are not for sale, and that if he or Wolfram and Hart ever step foot anywhere near this place, we will know about it and we will see it as a direct act of aggression.”  
  
Faith grits her teeth, finishing, “- and if that happens, he’s dust.”She looks at Buffy, who returns her solemn look and nods. 

Xander is caught up in the grave atmosphere that fills the room, and decides for once to keep his thoughts to himself. _Broody bastard should have died years ago. Good riddance._

Later, after the meeting is called to a close, Xander jogs down the hallway as everyone separates to continue with their days’ engagements. “Hey, hey Buffy!” he calls out, shifting his large frame as nimbly as he can around a group of chatting Slayers. He catches up to Buffy and Faith before they can make their way through the next set of doors towards the north wing.  
  
“Easy, Harris, you almost broke a sweat there,” Faith quips at him.

Xander responds only by flashing a too-wide, sarcastic grin, before addressing Buffy directly.  
  
“Can I, uh, talk to you? Just you and me?” he looks sidelong at Faith, who raises her eyebrows and jerks her head back in a gesture of mock offence.

“Oooft, that’s me told. You girls go have a chinwag. I’ll be upstairs, B.” Faith shoots Buffy a wink before striding through the doors and away.  
  
Buffy tears her smiling eyes away from watching Faith leave to pay attention to Xander and the grimace on his face. “What’s up?” She asks lightly.  
  
“Let’s walk, ok?” Xander still has an odd expression on his face, _can she genuinely not figure out what I want to talk to her about?_ He leads her gently by her arm through the busy entrance lobby of the Foundation, outside into the grounds, where they walk side by side down a tree-lined path.

It’s one of those perfect crisp winter days, where the sky is gloriously, spotlessly blue, allowing a welcome warmth to gently beam down. Sunlight picks out a million sparkling points of frost, encrusting grass and crystallised fallen leaves in the shadowy parts of the ground. Xander and Buffy stroll together, the gravel under their feet crunching in a satisfying way, as Xander tries to pinpoint the words he needs to voice his concerns to his friend, without sounding like a complete dick. It’s not easy.

“Buffy…I have to ask…You and Faith…” Xander lets that hang in the air around them, sincerely hoping Buffy will interject because he really doesn’t know the best way to finish that question. She doesn’t. _Dammit…_ “You and Faith are…like, girlfriends now?” He hates the shrill edge he hears in his own voice, feeling like an awkward teenager again. He looks down at Buffy, who has stopped walking and is staring cooly at him.   
  
She shakes her head, makes a ticking noise with her tongue, then crosses her arms to face him. “You know what? It is what it is, Xander. I don’t see how it’s anyone’s business but ours.” Her entire demeanour is defensive now, which upsets Xander a little. _But then_ , he supposes, _maybe she feels like I’m attacking her.  
_

“Listen, you know I’m all about the love, hey I am a _big_ fan of ladylove…” _Idiot! You’re making it worse!_ “I didn’t mean like, you know, the internet kind…ah man…” Buffy makes an exasperated sound and walks off, leaving Xander stumbling over his words. “Wait! Shit, Buffy, I’m sorry,” he hurries after her, his hands out in a pleading gesture. “Buff, please, I’m sorry. I am _so_ bad at this. I’m not trying to be a jerk, ok?”  
  
Buffy stops again, spins to face him. “Then don’t be one! I…I really wasn’t expecting this to happen, ok? This is all very new to me too!” Her defensive exterior wavers for a moment and she seems fragile, bashful, even scared. They carry on walking slowly together, “I am _trying_ to be all, Sensible Freethinking Woman in her Prime, you know? Hey, it’s 2004, I can make choices, my gay best friend says I don’t need labels, and most of the time that feels completely fine!…” Her voice trembles a little as she continues, “…but sometimes…sometimes I get so, overwhelmed by what I’m feeling, and what it means…and I feel like I’m flying completely blind.”

They reach a small stone wall where Buffy slumps down, Xander places himself next to her. She shakes her head, “Xander, I can’t pretend that I’ve never felt attracted to Faith until recently. She and I, we’ve always had this _thing,_ you know? This ridiculous intensity. When we were younger, I could only see it really as a rivalry, then later, as a threat. Now, now it’s…so much bigger than any of that.”

Xander takes all this in, really trying to listen and process Buffy’s words. She continues, “When she came back to Sunnydale to join us against the First…my head was still with Spike, but it caught me off-guard - how different things felt between me and Faith. It was like, all the bullshit she used to throw around had been put aside, and I could really _see_ the person she was underneath it.”  
  
Xander nods, “And maybe you did a little less bullshit throwing towards her yourself.”  
  
“Yeah.” Buffy’s voice lowers, and he sees tears gathering in her eyes as she glances up at him. “I…I tried to kill her, Xander. I put her in a coma.”   
  
“She tried to kill me! And you, and Willow, and, you know, everybody? She signed herself up as the Mayor’s number one gal!”Xander feels his own old wounds reopening as he exclaims this, suddenly engulfed by the memory of Faith’s hands wrapped around his neck, and he involuntarily takes a large gasp of air.

“I know, Xander. She knows. But, if it’d been me, in her place - treated so horribly by us Scoobies, the Council, abandoned and ignored by everyone…well. Let’s just say the older I get, the less sure I am that I’d have turned out any better than she did.”   
  
Xander starts to object to this, but Buffy holds up a hand, and continues, “It doesn’t matter. OK? She made mistakes. She was a scared kid, groomed by someone else to do horrible things. She’s more than atoned for it.”   
  
“You’re obviously…letting her get very close to you now…and I’m worried about her hurting you! That’s not a stupid thing, ok Buffy? I’m havin’ a hard time just _forgiving_ Faith for, you know, _being Faith._ ” Xander frowns.   
  
Buffy sits up straighter. “So, you’re telling me that we don’t just _forgive_ people when they've gone off the rails, Xand? How about Willow? She murdered people and tried to end the world. You gonna write her off too?”

“Hey. That was different, ok? Willow was in pain, she was suffering, and she was under the control of something much more powerful than she was. Don’t you dare compare her to that…psycho!” Xander is surprised to hear how angry he sounds as he spits this last word out.  
  
Buffy stands up, clearly furious. “It is _no different!_ Faith was in pain, she had such a shitty start in life, and _we all rejected her!_ She was suffering, and she was being controlled by a powerful evil politician - nobody else showed her any kind of affection!”

She steps towards him, really yelling now,“You saved Willow by telling her you loved her. What if you’d gone up to that temple on Kingman’s Bluff and told Willow she was dead to you? Huh? What if you’d _shoved a knife_ into her gut? How do you think that would have turned out?”   
  
Xander can’t look Buffy in the eye, his counter-argument catches in his throat and he suddenly feels hot shame in the pit of his stomach. Buffy is right, and he knows it.He sits back down.  
  
She wasn’t done, either. “Forgiving people who deserve it is _exactly_ what we do, Xander. It’s what we _have to do._ Especially when they have worked as damn hard as Faith has in order to earn that forgiveness. She’s proved time and time again that she fights with us.”  
  
There’s a long pause, and eventually Buffy sits on the wall next to Xander.   
  
“I missed her so much after Sunnydale. I was all, big-ball-of-feelings-y anyway, grieving for Spike, and Anya…” Xander feels a pull through his chest hearing Anya’s name, and maybe this shows in his face, as Buffy lays a hand gently on top of his. “…I honestly couldn’t pinpoint what the fuck I was feeling at all. But the more time that passed, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. When I found out we didn’t know where the hell she was, I got so _scared._ It scared me how scared I was. The thought that something might’ve happened to her and I wouldn’t have known…That’s why I ran off to the US as soon as I heard she was missing.”   
  
Xander forces a smile, “And then you realised you were a big ol’ gay lady? _Ow.”_ Buffy thumps him on his forearm, making him wince.  
  
“I can’t say I’m ready to put any sort of label on myself right now.I’m just…not there yet. It’s not like I’ve really thought about other women, but Faith? Yeesh. I have thought a _lot_ about Faith.”   
  
Xander dips his head to one side. “Well you have the power of sight, so yeah, not blaming you there.”  
  
“Thought about her when I was younger, ignored it, and now - I just don’t want to ignore it anymore. I’m so sick of pushing away the possibility of happiness with someone because I’m scared of what it might mean.” She nods to herself, “I made that mistake with Spike, I’m not doing it again.”

Xander sighs, “God knows you deserve some peace and good times, Buffy. You know that’s all I want for you. I’m sorry I was an over-defensive ass. Faith is a sore subject for me, but I guess you’re right - it’s time to grow up and move on.” Buffy smiles, and softly headbutts his shoulder. Xander lays his head on top of hers, smiling to himself.

Then after a pause, he slaps his hand onto Buffy’s thigh to push himself up to standing, saying brightly, “Well, this means you and I actually share a sexual history partner. Never saw that coming, although I always did have my eye on Riley.”   
  
Buffy pushes him gently, “Trust me, you’d have been too much man for him,” then snickers at Xander’s shocked facial expression,   
  
“Oh you have _got_ to elaborate on that, please!” They walk back towards the house together, the sound of their soft chatter and laughter carrying up and away into the still December morning.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little early for Halloween, but this one is (hopefully) a little creepy. So if you're not into horror, maybe skip it. If you're still reading and enjoying it, cheers for sticking around! Life gets in the way as it does, but I'm still writing. Certainly more to follow.

In the three weeks that follow, the residents of a particularly sleepy Norfolk coastal village notice several remarkable goings-on in the area.

Firstly, the bleak, four-mile stretch of sandy beach is frequently filled with hundreds of rows of soldiers doing some sort of training drills, orders barked at them by three or four generals down megaphones. These soldiers are unusual in that they are all young women, and hugely varied in appearance, dialect, and dress. Which is odd, (remarks Agnes during the Womens’ Institute Saturday morning knitting club) because aren’t soldiers supposed to wear uniforms and look, well, _uniform?_ (The other knitters mumble their agreement, clacking away at their wooly creations.)  
  
Secondly, Norton House itself is now seemingly on lockdown, with an extra gatehouse having been erected at the end of the long driveway from the village. One night in the local pub, The Black Dog Inn, old Cyril (who regularly walks his dog round by the house) whispers that he’s seen armed guards patrolling around all day and at night, visible by floodlights around the reinforced boundary walls. “Bloody great swords, some of em had!” he mutters into his pint.

Thirdly, local fisherman/marijuana grower Marcus repeatedly swears to anyone who’ll listen (also usually in the Black Dog Inn of an evening) that if you stare for long enough just above the boundary walls of the house itself, you can catch an iridescent shimmering in the air. “Like a bubble about to pop!” he claims. Nobody believes him - because it sounds like his usual brand of stoned nonsense. But in fact, Marcus is correctly reporting the rarely-seen effects of a Locus Fortusae spell. This one is particularly large and exceptionally powerful, put in place by Willow and Nadine, and supported by the full strength of a coven of witches some three hundred miles away. (When any living thing passes this barrier, it lights up a series of magical maps in the HQ room, monitored at all times.)

The residents of Norton House aren’t worrying too much about the attention from the local population, as they have bigger concerns. Giles is convinced that an attack from Wolfram and Hart was imminent - his suspicions were only increased by a headed letter he received detailing Angel (and the Senior Partners’) displeasure at the Foundation’s refusal of their second offer to buy the rogues. The letter clarified that there would be “no further opportunities for an amenable deal”, which Giles reads as a blatant threat.

The training of the Slayers has become more intense, more military, with an emphasis on working as a larger unit rather than training for a life as a single Slayer working alone. Drills have become normal, and everyone takes their turn on watch of the perimeter walls in teams of no fewer than ten.

Thus far, though, it seems as if their preparations were all for nothing. There have been no intruders spotted, no grand attacks, nothing more threatening than the letter.

Until one Friday afternoon, in the days just before New Year’s eve.

Norton House is going about its business, everybody pre-occupied with their various tasks. In the HQ room, three Slayers are working on monitor duty. That afternoon, a Norwegian named Hanna, a Jamaican named Ruby and Sam, an Australian, are on shift keeping watch on the CCTV screens which cover all parts of the property. Hanna’s cluster of screens covers, amongst other areas, Safe Camp.

Hanna is a diligent, hard working Slayer, so she never manages to forgive herself for what happens. At the specific point in time where she accidentally drops her pen and leans over to pick it up, she is _not watching her monitor t_ o see a scruffy figure materialise out of thin air, just outside the main door of Safe Camp, then sprint away into the woods behind the building.

Nothing further happens until many hours later, as the winter evening draws itself in thickly around Norton House. Darkness presses itself against the windows, prompting curtains to be drawn, fireplaces lit, and the unlucky Slayers who are on shift for night Wall watch pull their heaviest coats and gloves on, trying to keep the freezing air out of their bones. It’s not until three Slayers have been forcibly pulled away from their posts and their throats slit, too quickly for them to even scream, that someone notices and raises the alarm.Something is attacking Norton House. 

——————————————————————————

Just before the chaos kicks off, Buffy and Faith are lounging naked in each other’s arms in Buffy’s room. (Really, it’s _their_ room now - they haven’t spent a night apart for over a month.) The small open fireplace in front of them crackles happily, newly fed on a bone-dry log. On the heavy carpet of the floor, Faith sits up against the foot of the bed, Buffy laying in between her legs, her back propped up against Faith’s chest, stroking the velvety skin of her pale thigh at her side. Faith’s dark hair looks almost black in the firelight, tumbling across Buffy’s bare chest as Faith kisses her shoulder.

Faith slings her firm arms around Buffy and hugs her close, rocking her gently back and forth. “You are - fucking _exceptional_ at that, Summers.” Her voice rumbles through her chest softly into Buffy’s ear, bringing a wide smile to the blonde’s face.

“Naw, me?” Buffy feigns innocence, turning to kiss Faith’s nose. “Well, I guess I did learn from the best…” she grips Faith’s thighs, and the pair chuckle together. “I never imagined that’d be something I was good at…” she wonders, savouring the taste of Faith still in her mouth.

Faith raises her eyebrows, before continuing to kiss along the delicate line of Buffy’s shoulder and up her neck, “Yeah, turns out, you are the undisputed queen of going down on me. Dream big and you can do anything. It’s inspiring, really…”  
  
A soft moan rolls from Buffy as Faith starts gently drawing her teeth across her earlobe, both hands moving across in front to graze Buffy’s nipples, her fingertips trailing delicious sensations over her golden skin.“Youuu gotta stop that or we are gonna miss dinner _again_ …” Buffy breathes, not remotely convincingly. Faith’s hands start to work their way lower down Buffy’s abdomen…

The bedroom door slams open - Kennedy bursts through, quickly averting her eyes to the scene in front of her but shouting, “We’re under attack. Need you downstairs, now!” before darting off back down the hallway, the sounds of distant shouts floating through the open door.

Buffy and Faith are up in an instant, wide eyed and worried; they dress as quickly as possible, before pounding off towards the main house.

They reach the lobby, to find panic and chaos. Dozens of Slayers are armed, running outside towards the perimeter wall. Faith spots Kennedy outside, and runs out to meet her, Buffy at her side.“Ken, what is this?” Faith barks.  
  
Kennedy barely turns to face them, still looking out at the scene unfolding. “Three dead, on the Wall watch. Throats cut. Nobody saw anything. _Cluster up_!” She shouts at some nearby Slayers, who quickly form back-to-back groups of five, all looking for the threat. The armoury emergency procedure has been triggered, four large trolleys of weapons have been wheeled out into the middle of the area for all arriving Slayers to arm themselves. 

“Do we know what’s doing this? Security update?” Buffy snaps.  
  
Kennedy nods, grabbing a walkie-talkie from her belt, “HQ, check in,” she grunts into the radio, followed by a short buzz of static. Faith takes a second to appreciate Kennedy's professionalism - she certainly doesn't show any awkwardness at the fact she just walked in on her and Buffy naked, mid foreplay.   
  
“Receiving,” comes the reply  
  
“Any luck finding what did this?”  
  
“Negative, still checking.” then back to buzz.

Just as Kennedy is about to reply, the radio crackles back into life, “Kennedy, check in,”  
  
“Receiving,” Kennedy blurts.  
  
“Uhhh, we’ve got something here on the monitors but it needs…interpretation? Request all board members in HQ room ASAP.”  
  
All three Slayers turn and run together towards HQ room. On the way, they see Giles and Xander running over, and also Andrew - bizarrely dressed in his tweed pyjamas - all hurrying in the same direction, having heard the call out.

Once all inside, Faith sees Willow and Dawn already staring intently at a cluster of monitors with the three Slayers who had been on watch. One of them, a blonde, looks especially distressed, and has obviously been crying. “I…I only looked away for a second, half a second! I didn’t see it - I’m so sorry, Ms. Rosenberg, I’m so sorry!”

Willow briefly places a hand on the sobbing woman’s shoulder, before glancing across at the newcomers, a fearful expression on her face. “We got something here - look,” She gestures to the nearest screen, and everyone gathers round. Ruby activates the controls to wind the footage back, then presses play.  
  
Faith frowns a little, confused by what she’s seeing. The recording has a date stamp for earlier that afternoon.“There’s nothing there…?” she mumbles, but then before she’s finished her thought, she sees a shimmer, almost imperceptible in the air in front of Safe Camp’s main entrance. She watches, then hears Giles softly exclaim, “Dear God…” as they all watch a small, hunched figure solidify before their eyes. Hanna was right - barely half a second passes before the apparition turns and bolts into the nearby trees; it’s no wonder she missed it.  
  
“What _is_ that?” Xander squints at the screen.  
  
“It’s not a what, it’s a who.” Everyone turns to Kennedy, her face grim. “That’s Laura. The kid I picked up a little while back. She’s the youngest rogue…she’s eleven.”

“That’s impossible, right Willow?” Buffy frowns, her voice showing hints of exasperation and fear. “You and Nadine said it would be impossible for the rogues to get out - for them to leave Safe Camp, you said they’d get knocked out or… go poof or… something?”  
  
Willow shakes her head, staring at the now blank screen. “We…we made it so they couldn’t break themselves out physically, there’s no way she’d have been able to do that. We didn’t account for the rogues using magic to escape, why would we have?” 

Dawn exhales, “That’s why the Locus Fortusae spell didn’t activate. The threat didn’t cross the spell barrier - she was here in the camp already.”

Andrew’s face is puzzled as he chimes in, “No rogues have ever been reported skilfully using magic, least of all this kid. She probably can’t even do big sums, and what, you’re saying she’s a powerful witch? No way.”  
  
“So who did the magicks?” Dawn asks, her voice trembling a little. “Who knows where the rogues are, and would want to set one of them loose on the Foundation?”

Buffy turns away, swearing softly. “God fucking dammit. Angel.”

Faith feels a swell of anger in her chest. “This is Wolfram and Hart’s move. We won’t give ‘em the rogues, so they turn one on us.”

“As plans go, it doesn’t suck. It’s the plan of a giant evil asshole, but it’s a _smart_ giant evil asshole plan.” Xander gripes.

“Proves to the newbies we can’t handle the rogues safely, undermines the Foundation, and kills a bunch of us in the process. Man, he really doesn’t like being told no, does he?” Faith sneers.  
  
“Yeah, but couldn’t they have picked, you know, a bigger rogue? One who might do more damage?” Andrew muses.  
  
Buffy shakes her head, “No, it’s perfect. Pick a child - makes it harder for us to take her out. This is straight out of Angelus’s handbook, Angel’s done himself proud.” Her voice is bitter, but doesn’t waver at all. She’s beyond angry, Faith realises. “She’s eleven… and she’s killed three Slayers.” Buffy states, not directed at anybody in particular.Her words hang in the air, creating a brief contemplative silence in the group amongst the buzzing activity of the HQ room in scramble-mode.

Willow shakes her head, as if to spur herself into action. “I, I gotta get Nadine down here. We’ll catch her, Buffy, ok? Now we know who she is, we can do a locator spell, maybe even an impediment charm to stop her.”  
  
Kennedy interjects, “Laura’s seriously messed up, Buffy, she’s been locked in her cell for months, and now suddenly she’s free? She’s probably panicking, acting purely on self-preservation.”  
  
“Yeah, plus with Wolfram and Hart involved, I wouldn’t rule out the idea of telepathic mind-games on their part, you know? Who knows how long they’ve had access to Laura whilst she’s been at Safe Camp?”  
  
Dawn’s question sets Faith’s mind racing; visions of a terrified, angry child, locked up, whispers inside her head encouraging her darkest thoughts to manifest, telling her murder her captors as soon as she gets chance. It causes a shiver down her spine, an uncomfortable mix of disgust, horror, and deep pity. “We gotta find this kid, _now_.”  
  
Buffy turns to address the whole HQ room. “I want word out to all teams, _non-lethal force only._ We are dealing with a rogue Slayer, that makes her one of us. Nobody kills her. Find her, restrain her. Keep checking in. GO!” She turns on her heels to leave, glancing at Faith to follow. Willow is already on the phone to Nadine, but calls after them, “I’ll call you guys when we’ve done the spell - be careful!”  
  
Back outside, Faith and Buffy head straight to the armoury and load up with non-lethal weapons. They both take pistols equipped with tranquilliser darts, and Buffy grabs a large net-gun, slinging it across her back. Other Slayers are doing the same thing, swapping their swords for tranq guns, trading knives for batons.  
  
Faith notices Buffy fighting to adjust the strap of the net-gun around her chest, her frustration apparent. Faith steps into her space in front of her and takes hold of the strap, deftly adjusting it to fit snugger around Buffy’s frame.Buffy sighs, dropping her hands, “Thanks,” she mumbles.

Faith briefly lifts Buffy’s chin up with a curled finger, placing a light kiss on her lips. “We’re gonna find her, we’re gonna help her. Even if that means just stopping her from hurting anyone else. OK?”

Buffy meets her eyes and nods, placing her hand on Faith’s. Then, they’re both straight back into warrior-mode, heading out together into the night.

Outside, the chaos is starting to look a little more like organised chaos. Slayers have formed into teams, led by Kennedy, Rhona, and Chao-Ahn. The perimeter wall guard has been restored, with all the floodlights turned inward to light up the grounds of Norton House. Buffy and Faith march out, finding Caridad who’s gripping a walkie-talkie intently and listening to the report buzzing through. Seeing them, she shouts over, “Just heard! Movement sighted in the trees to the east, plenty of cover out there. Chances are that’s where she’s hiding.” 

Buffy glances over to the main building, “Lockdown complete?”  
  
Caridad nods, “Yep - all inside are accounted for, internal doors locked. If she’s in there, she can’t get out.”

Faith looks towards the wall, with its reinstated sentinels. “Any more hurt since the initial three?”  
  
“There was an attempt, but luckily the rogue didn’t quite get the jump so the Slayer fought her off - she’s a newbie…I can’t remember her name…she’s wounded but it’s not lethal, she’s in the infirmary now.”

“Thank you, keep everyone tight, ok?” Buffy briefly grips Caridad’s arm before running towards Kennedy. Faith follows, keeping her line of sight trained on the dark tree-line, looking for any sign of movement.  
  
“Ken! Anything from Willow?” Buffy calls over. Kennedy just shakes her head, then moves out quickly with a group of Slayers into the woods.

“Alright, let’s head ov-” Buffy begins to Faith, then stops abruptly, a shocked expression on her face. Before she can question what’s wrong, Faith freezes, yelling, “Jesus!!” as she hears Willow’s voice ring loud and clear inside her own head.

 _Buffy, Faith. We have a location on Laura. Head south - I’ll guide you.  
  
_ Faith swears again, gritting her teeth, “Fuck, Willow, I hate it when you do that mind megaphone thing. Creepy as…”  
  
 _You don’t have to speak out loud, Faith, I can hear you in your head.  
  
_ “Right, ‘cos that totally makes it less creepy…” Faith hisses, glancing at Buffy who quickly shakes her head, clearly weirded out too.Buffy closes her eyes, and Faith hears her _think_ back at Willow,

_Ok Will, but the team said Laura was spotted in the woods to the east, that’s where everyone else has gone. You’re saying we go south?  
  
She’s quick, Buffy, and she’s smart. She’s letting herself be seen when she wants to be seen. Go now, you can head her off. _

Buffy’s eyes snap open, she looks to Faith and they head off quickly, away from the hubbub.To the south of Norton House lies the infirmary, as well as some storage sheds. _At a glance,_ Faith thinks, _not the best place to hide out._ The more extensive grounds to the east and north have woods, even a small creek and plenty of overgrown rhododendron bushes someone small could easily lurk about in. For Laura to choose not to hide there, but rather in this area - just scrubland and a few small buildings - doesn’t make a lot of sense.

Faith voices this to Buffy, who nods agreement, “Feels a little…trappy, don’t you think?” she murmurs.

“Yes it does…” Faith sets her jaw, her Slayer senses tingling at both Buffy’s proximity and also the threat they both know is lurking somewhere nearby. The pair of Slayers move closer to each other, stalking but also instinctively protecting each other’s backs.

Willow’s voice shunts into Faith’s head again without warning - _Straight ahead of you, less than two hundred yards. She’s…she’s stationary at the moment. Her aura…it feels really… off, I can’t figure out what’s happening. Be careful.  
_

Faith strains her eyes to peer into the darkness, and sees a small shed straight in front of them, the door slightly ajar. Buffy’s eyes are trained in on this as well, and Faith watches in her peripheral vision as Buffy slowly reaches around to grab the net gun from her back, shouldering it as she creeps forward. Faith’s tranquilliser pistol is in her right hand, and she steadies her grip with her left, matching Buffy’s cautious pace towards the shed. Faith’s heart is steady, the sound of her breathing and Buffy’s footsteps fills her ears.

Before they can get closer, the small light over the entrance of the shed flickers into life, giving off a pale radius of sickly yellow light. The door to the shack slowly creaks open, and a small shadowy outline of a child shuffles into their view, then stops. Both Slayers raise their weapons, ready to fire at the motionless individual.

Faith doesn’t have any training in reading auras or any magic-inclination at all, but the person in front of her sends chills over her whole body. Willow is correct, there is something very, very off about Laura, even Faith can feel it. The _wrongness_ is overwhelming, in a way she’s never experienced before. She risks a micro-second glance at Buffy, who has a strange, fearful look on her face. She’s clearly picking up the same thing.  
  
Slowly, like her legs aren’t working properly, Laura takes a couple of steps towards the pair. As she walks into the light, Faith can see Laura’s hands, arms, and torso covered in blood - a dark splatter of it crosses her face. _Blood from the three Slayers she killed,_ Faith realises, her stomach lurching. Faith’s heart turns to ice as Laura’s face becomes more visible - her eyes are pure milky white. “B…” Faith whispers, “Are you seeing this?” Buffy’s eyes are huge, staring at Laura.

The blood-covered child takes another shambling step towards them, her face completely devoid of expression. Buffy calls out, “Laura? We’re not gonna hurt you. But you need to stop. OK?” Her words are softly spoken, but Faith notices she doesn’t lower her net-gun by even a fraction. Faith’s own hands are tight around her weapon, finger poised over the trigger as she holds her breath, waiting for any sort of response from the girl.

There’s a heavy, restive silence. Then, a wide smile splits across Laura’s face, her head lifts back, and a chuckle pours from her chest that makes Faith want to turn and run away as fast as possible. The noise is deep, heavy, fractured and weirdly resonant - absolutely not the sort of noise an eleven year old girl can produce naturally.  
  
Laura straightens, then takes a couple of confident strides towards Buffy and Faith. They both jump backwards, Faith adjusts her grip on her gun and fires a shot. Laura jerks her small frame impossibly fast, and the dart bypasses her waist by half a millimetre.  
  
“Now come on, Faithy, what kind of way is that to treat a little girl? What are you, some kind of psycho?” Laura’s head tilts, completely untroubled by the attack.  
  
“That voice…” Faith hears her own words trembling, “That’s…”  
  
“Angel.” Buffy finishes her sentence, her mouth curling into a sneer. 

‘Laura’ spreads her arms, then joins her hands behind the small of her back. A very familiar mannerism, and decidedly un-childlike. She rocks back on her heels, sizing up the women in front of her, her empty bewitched eyes giving nothing away.  
  
“Ya got me! Thought I’d pay you a visit, of sorts, seeing as you guys here at the Foundation don’t quite seem to be getting my message.”  
  
Buffy grits her jaw, her voice steely, “So, you go all Exorcist on little kids now? Nice line of work you’re in, huh, Angel.”  
  
Angel twists Laura’s face into a cold smile. “Hey, if you’d been smart enough to take my offer, none of this would’ve needed to happen. Anyway, I’m not hurting the girl, just borrowing her to make a point.”  
  
“And the three Slayers you killed? What kinda point is that you’re making?” Faith snaps.

“Actually, no, that was all Laura. See, I’ve been visiting her in her brain for some time now, and we’ve been chatting while she’s been her cell. She’s been, _very_ unhappy at being kept here. I just, you know, listened to her. Told her what she wanted to hear.” He shrugs Laura’s small frame, “Maybe I embellished somewhat, here and there. Told her you were gonna keep her prisoner until you tortured and killed her. So, she really, _really_ wanted to kill as many of you as she could. I just encouraged her. Supported her, really.”

He grins, her pale blood-splattered face ghoul-like in the dim light. “And my _point_ , Faith,” he continues, his voice harsh in the still night air, “is that you people don’t have the first idea of how to deal with individuals as troubled as Laura, here. You don’t have the resources, you don’t have the nerve, you don’t have the experience.” He takes another step towards Faith, tilts his head, “I am the only person in the world, actually, who has successfully saved a rogue Slayer from themselves. As well you know.” He looks Faith up and down, a predatory glare which, coming from a child, makes Faith feel sick. “And look at you now, huh. All better. Right?”

Buffy growls, “You don’t get to claim credit for Faith. Not now, not ever.”  
  
Angel snaps his head to regard Buffy, “Well, here’s a twist. Since when do you give her any sort of credit? What did I miss?” He chuckles, a grin fixed on small teeth, but Laura’s blank eyes tick quickly between the two suspiciously.

Faith’s heart thuds; part of her wants to cheer because Buffy defended her in front of Angel, but the other part wants to beg her to be quiet - for her not to give him any sort of ammunition or hint that there is more to know. 

“She’s with us, Angel, she’s part of the Foundation. You might have stepped in when…when I failed to, yeah. But she did the rest of the work herself. She’s earned her place here. She’s made her choices. Just like you’ve made yours.” Faith hears Buffy steadying her voice - she knows how difficult it must have been for her to say that out loud to Angel.  
  
“Wow. Buffy Summers, you just admitted you failed at something. This really is a brave new world…” Angel jeers. “And you _really_ did fail Faith. You fucked up hugely. What a shitty excuse you were for a Slayer, for a role model, for a friend…and then you stabbed her! We talked about what a bitch she was so often, Faith, do you remember?”

Faith grits her teeth, trying to resist rising to the bait he’s obviously setting for her. Instead, she exhales through her nose, before replying, “Past is in the past. The Angel I used to talk with, the guy I trusted - all you’re doing is proving he don’t exist anymore. He didn’t run Evil Incorporated, or go around wearing twisted little girls for his own sick amusement.” She ignores the hurricane of butterflies in her belly as she continues carefully,“More importantly… I know that Buffy has forgiven me. And she knows I’ve forgiven her. That’s bigger than you could ever understand.”

Angel takes this in, still grinning demonically through Laura’s face, but Faith notices his stance has stiffened somewhat, and he looks less cocky than he did. “Great. Good for you, you’re gal pals again. Don’t care. Hand over the rogues to me, and I will make sure they aren’t a problem for you anymore. Do you really think the rest of the women here are going to want to stay after this? Gonna trust you or anything you’re doing here? You can’t even protect your own.”

 _He’s losing his composure._ Faith realises. _He’s rattled._ “You know we ain’t agreeing to that. This was your big play, wasn’t it? Kinda crappy move, Angel.”  
  
Laura’s sick grin vanishes, now Angel holds her face in a malicious grimace. “You can’t control these rogues. I have proved that. I’ve also proved that your security is trash. I know you’ve got, what, two witches here? One of whom is Willow Rosenberg…there’s a train-wreck waiting to happen. Our head warlock is more powerful than both of them combined. The magic Ezekiel’s done to get me here…you had no idea I’d even infiltrated this place!”  
  
Buffy seems to follow Faith’s lead, trying to needle Angel into a confrontation. “All you’ve proved is how far you’ve fallen. You’ve pulled, what I’m guessing, is a fairly basic possession spell, to try and scare us. You’re panicking. You _know_ we won’t be bowing and scraping to Wolfram and Hart. Not now, now ever.” She steps towards Angel, a cold half-smile on her lips, “Moreover, there is _so much_ you don’t know, Angel.” Buffy flashes Faith a grin, then walks further towards Laura’s possessed figure. “The power you think you have over me, is gone. You saw to that when you sent that amulet to kill Spike. You saw to it when you demanded my obedience in LA. And in every single move you’ve made in Wolfram and Hart. You think the Foundation is just a bunch of confused women? You have no idea what we have here. You couldn’t possibly imagine how much my eyes have been opened.” Buffy crosses her arms. “What I’ve found here makes what you and me had look like a joke.”  
  
Angel bares Laura’s teeth, “If you’re trying to provoke me, Buff, that’s pretty sad. Hate to break it to you, but I’m not pining over you anymore…”  
  
Buffy’s face is a mask, her voice blank and uncaring, “Oh I know, but I don’t think you realise just how little you mean to _anyone_ here now. You’re king of Wolfram and Hart. Congratulations. But believe me when I say, you are dead to the rest of the world. This little stunt you’re pulling? Just means we’re gonna kill you harder.”  
  
Faith grips the pistol harder as Laura lurches towards Buffy. “You will hand me the rogues! Your pathetic Foundation doesn’t have any other choice!” Angel’s voice roars from Laura, furious and out of patience. 

Buffy twirls out of reach, deftly spinning and sending a full-force roundhouse kick into the back of Angel’s head, sending the child flying into the dirt face first. Back on his feet, he tears towards Buffy, screeching, hands claw-like, swiping for her face. Buffy parries punches from tiny fists, before grabbing and throwing Angel full bodied back into the shed, crashing through the partially open wooden door.

“Faith, now!” Buffy yells over, drops the net gun and pulls a tranquilliser pistol from the holster on her thigh. They both aim at the door, just in time as Laura’s body leaps out, running full pelt towards Buffy. Her arm is clearly broken, flailing horribly behind her as she moves. Faith and Buffy both fire darts into Angel, breaking his stride. A second passes, Laura’s body falters, then incredibly she rushes forward again, desperate to rip at Buffy. Faith has already reloaded and shoots another dart straight into Laura’s chest, and finally, her small body slumps onto its knees.

She thunks down onto the dirt, her face on its side, a possessed milky white eye furiously tracking the two Slayers as they cautiously approach her. Angel’s voice hisses, “You’ll never have the power that I have… You’ll never…be… enough…” before Laura’s body succumbs to the powerful anaesthetic, her eyelids droop, and she slips into unconsciousness.  
  
Faith tentatively pokes the sleeping child with the toe of her heavy boot, satisfying herself that the darts have actually worked. Angel’s words resound in her head. He was probably talking to both of them, about the Foundation. But what if he’d figured out her and Buffy’s relationship? What if “ _you’ll never be enough”_ was aimed at Faith? _Bastard, still all about the mind games._

She doesn’t say any of this out loud. Instead, once she’s convinced that Laura is finally no longer a threat, she slips an arm around Buffy and pulls her into a hug. She strokes Buffy’s blonde hair slowly, trying to calm them both.  
  
“That can’t have been fun for you, B.”  
  
Buffy presses herself into Faith’s arms, but, to Faith’s amazement, her voice is calm when she replies, “I accepted that the man I loved was dead a long time ago. I’ve…I’ve already mourned him. Now, it’s just an evil thing wearing his face. We’re vampire Slayers…I’m used to that concept.”  
  
 _Buffy - Faith - you’re both ok, that’s good. Kennedy and her team are on the way to collect Laura._ Willow’s voice enters Faith’s head again, and in the distance Faith can hear the footsteps and voices of Kennedy’s team of Slayers approaching.She plants a kiss on top of Buffy’s head.  
  
“Good job, Will, can we turn off the mind messages now? Kinda wanta be back in charge of my own head.”  
  
 _You got it. See you back at the house.  
  
_ As Kennedy’s team carefully place Laura onto a stretcher, Buffy and Faith hold each other’s hands and walk back towards the main house. Faith casts a quick look back over her shoulder towards the shed - the light over the door now extinguished. A shiver crawls back up her spine, and she unwillingly plays Angel’s possession of Laura back through her head. She feels Buffy squeeze her hand, and as she looks to Buffy’s searching eyes, she knows that Buffy’s struggling with it too. Faith grips her hand back, then wraps her arm around Buffy’s shoulders, hugging her as they walk.

Faith knows they have work to do; assess the damage, debrief everyone and work quickly to ensure no more magical interference from Wolfram and Hart. But all she wants to do is get Buffy back to their room, back in front of their fireplace, wrap them both together in a blanket and hold her close until the memory of this night fades away.  
  
——————————————————————————  
  
It’s getting on for two a.m. by the time the Foundation board members are all available for an emergency convening in the HQ room. As soon as Nadine and Willow knew Laura was detained, they set about creating an additional spell to protect Norton House from any sort of magical or psychic interference. It was actually easier, Willow explained, than creating the protective spell against physical intrusion. Something about “strength of the air versus strength of the spirit”…at that point Faith’s sleep-deprived, emotionally-drained brain turned on the white noise and she felt herself stop listening.She and Buffy lean heavily against a console desk, as Giles paces slowly. Willow is crumpled against Kennedy in a corner, Dawn has her legs curled under herself in an office chair. Xander slouches, propped up on his elbows at a desk, next to Nadine, who is reclining but still managing to look effortlessly alert. 

Chao-Ahn, Rhona, and Caridad have dismissed their teams of Slayers they’d scrambled in the search for Laura. Luckily, nobody else had been injured, and there seemed to be a general feeling of catharsis in the ranks as everyone headed off to bed. They’d been preparing for a threat for weeks - the fact that a threat had presented itself and been stopped had given the women some sense of closure.

With Laura unconscious and in chains, and the grounds protected from any further invasion from Wolfram and Hart, all that was left to do was focus on the one fact that nobody could forget; there were three dead Slayers in the wake of Angel’s actions. They were identified as Olivia, an Italian Slayer who’d been at the Foundation for five months; Caroline, from South Africa, who had only been there six weeks, and Shyanne, an Irish Slayer who had all but completed her time at Norton House.

After Giles recounts the details of the three dead, Andrew lets out a small sniffle from where he perches in an enormous office chair. “I knew Shyanne pretty well. She was gonna be deployed back to Dublin when she’d finished here. She was…she was really excited about it. We used to have these silly dance-off competitions at the gym…”

Dawn places her hand on his shoulder as a tear runs down his cheek. “Caroline loved the library. She came in there a lot, she’d always ask me what book I was bringing in next.” She smiles sadly.

Kennedy sighs, “I remember Olivia from training. She was a super solid fighter, she had like, no off-switch. Can’t believe she went out that way…throat cut in the dark…she never had a chance. It’s not right.”  
  
Buffy shakes her head, angrily, “It’s _not_ right, what happened to them. And we need to stop Angel on this issue, once and for all.” She turns to address Willow, “It’s time, Will. I want to try the unmaking process on Laura, now.”

Willow sets her mouth into a line, “I thought you were gonna say that. Look, the formula I have - I gotta say, ideally I’d like to do more tests before injecting it into a rogue…” The look on Buffy’s face makes her backpedal, “…but I understand, we’re out of time. The chemistry is correct, it should work. Three injections to bring about permanent removal of Slayer strength.”

Nadine speaks up, her voice smooth and rich, “The Scythe has been immeasurably useful. I believe the enchantment is ready, to remove all memories of being called as a Slayer, this place, ourselves…”  
  
Kennedy cuts in, “Does the Coven feel the same way? Do they think it’s ready too?”  
  
Nadine’s face remains cool; if she’s annoyed that Kennedy cut her off, she doesn’t show it. “Yes. I discussed this with them earlier tonight. The test-cast is ready.”

“OK.” Faith hears Buffy trying to sound decisive, but also sees her try to stifle a yawn, not very successfully.

Giles rubs his eyes, then yawns himself. “Buffy, I think it would be wise for us all to get some rest tonight. For now, Angel is powerless. He’s been discovered, we’re protected so that his…pet warlock can’t pull the same trick again, and Laura is safe. Nobody will be making any good decisions running on no sleep.”  
  
“You’re right, of course.” Buffy sighs, smiles sleepily at him. She addresses everyone, “You’re all amazing, you know that. Go rest up, eat, sleep. Tomorrow - we need to trial this. It’s the only way we can help Laura now, and the rest of the rogues. It’s the only way we can protect them from Angel.” She takes Faith’s hand, filling her drowsy head with warmth.  
  
Everyone begins to shuffle themselves into movement, bid their goodnights and head off to their beds. As he passes them, Giles lays his left hand tenderly on Buffy’s shoulder, then his right on Faith’s. He regards the pair of them for a moment, before softly saying, “Well done, for tonight. I’m sure it was…beyond difficult.” Faith’s instinct is to wriggle away from this awkward expression of feelings, but Buffy’s hand gently holds her still.

Giles continues, “I couldn’t be prouder of both of you. And, moreover… I want you to know, I’m so happy you two have each other. I’m sorry, I should have said it sooner.” His eyes twinkle, and Faith finds herself blinking away tears. Giles’s words are so unexpected, but Faith is surprised at how desperately happy she is to hear them. Buffy sniffs, throws her arms around Giles and hugs him tightly, before gathering Faith into the hug as well.

Soon Giles makes a sort of odd squeaking sound - the noise a man makes when he’s being bear-hugged to within an inch of his life by two emotional and overtired Slayers. Faith releases the hug, “Buffy, we need to leave him some oxygen!” she chuckles, prompting Buffy to step away with a laugh, wiping tears from her cheeks. Giles is smiling too, although he looks a little more purple in the face than he did before, and he holds a hand to his ribcage as they all leave the room.


	14. Chapter 14

The following morning, after what feels like no time at all, Giles shuffles his way down to the canteen in search of some breakfast. The few hours sleep that he had didn’t really make a dent in the overwhelming mountain of his fatigue, so he elects to soak his brain in caffeine instead. He hasn’t even bothered to change out of his comfy casuals; normally he’d feel a little self conscious in his green woollen jumper and black cotton sweatpants in front of the Slayers, but this morning, he really doesn’t care. In the canteen, he makes a beeline straight for the coffee pot, grabbing a mug, savouring the warmth under his hands. 

There was already a hard frost setting in when he finally went to his room last night, and this morning a light covering of powdery snow is visible on the ground. Giles stands at the window, admiring the stark winter beauty of Norton House’s grounds, as steam rises from the mug in his hands. His mind replays the summary of last night’s events. _A vampire’s soul possessing the body of a murderous child. What a bizarrely horrible way to see this year out,_ he thinks. What with all the training and concern about an attack, Christmas had really been bypassed, Giles realised. _Perhaps a delayed celebration in the New Year would be good for morale…_

As he thinks on this, he is joined at the window by Dawn, clutching her own mug of what appears to be green tea. “Morning,” she smiles,  
  
“Hello, Dawn.” Giles is struck by how weary she looks, how much she’s matured beyond her years here at the Foundation. “How are you feeling?”  
  
She yawns, “Like a bag of crap. I’m gonna ask Willow to invent a spell to make you feel like you’ve had 10 hours of uninterrupted sleep. We get that to market, we can all retire as billionaires.” She takes a sip of her tea and Giles smiles.  
  
“Yes, I’m fairly sure Dragon’s Den wouldn’t need much convincing to invest.”  
  
“Giles, did you just make a reference to pop culture?” Dawn teases him, “I can’t believe Buffy just missed that. She’ll never believe me.”  
  
“Absolutely not, and you can’t prove anything.” Giles smirks, then tilts his head slightly, his voice soft, “How are you, really? What with everything going on, I haven’t had much chance to check in with you.”  
  
Dawn gazes into her mug of tea, “Yeah I’m ok. I mean, everybody’s tense at the moment, you know? Angel, Wolfram and Hart, the rogues, it’s…it’s a lot.”  
  
“And Buffy and Faith?” Giles searches Dawn’s face, she looks out of the window and there’s a pause.  
  
“It’s…of course it’s great, I’m happy for them. I…I guess I just feel a bit blindsided by it, like I should’ve known, should’ve seen it coming. Cos, I didn’t, like _at all_. I feel so guilty for that.” Dawn confides. “I feel like maybe it means I don’t know Buffy like I thought I did.”  
  
Giles shakes his head slightly, taking a deep breath out, “I think honestly you know Buffy better than anyone else - you’re her family. It seems to me that, perhaps she herself was blindsided, as you put it, by this too. She’s never mentioned any… _inclinations_ before, as far as I know. I don’t think she allowed herself to acknowledge it until it happened.” 

Dawn nods, “I mean, it’s not like I can’t see the appeal. Faith’s all hot, and badass, and she wears leather pants and stuff.”  
  
Giles clears his throat, “I think it’s more than just Faith’s…fashion sense…Their connection as the last two Slayers from the original line is undeniable. Perhaps their relationship evolving as it has was always inevitable.” Giles looks into Dawn’s eyes again, “But it’s important you talk to Buffy about anything you’re feeling. I know she’ll be worried about your opinion, but she’s probably afraid to ask you.”

Dawn’s eyebrows raise in a worried expression, “But that’s worse! I’d never want her to think she can’t talk to me, or like I wouldn’t be cool with it. I just want her to be happy and safe and loved.”  
  
“Then perhaps she just needs you to initiate that talk. In your own time, of course. I only say this to you, Dawn, because I plucked up the courage to do that myself last night. I knew straight away I should have done it sooner, and I think Buffy needed to hear it as much as I needed to say it.”

Dawn puts her tea on the window ledge and wraps her arms around Giles’ midriff, and the two hug each other tight. “Thanks, Giles. You know we’d all be lost without you, right?”  
  
Giles chuckles, “I don’t know about that. But you won’t have to find out. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”  
  
Dawn draws away, smiling. “Did you eat yet? I’m starved.”  
  
Giles feels his stomach growl, “No, I hope they’ve still got bacon on, I’m craving a proper breakfast….”  
  
The pair pick up their breakfast choices then sit together. Dawn chomps into her stack of pancakes with syrup and bananas, Giles into his ‘proper’ bacon sandwich, complete with nearly-burnt crispy bacon, lashings of butter and lots of ketchup. As they eat, Giles starts to consider the mammoth undertaking in front of them for the day.  
  
“I expect Willow and Nadine are feeling pretty nervous this morning,” he says to Dawn, in between bites.  
  
“Yeah, I guess so. At first, Willow was kinda grumpy about not being involved with the magic side of things, but she’s really thrown herself into being Science Girl - the other day she sounded so excited about it. That’s new, and of the good?” Dawn spears another forkful of pancakes into her mouth. 

“Yes, indeed,” Giles replies, “She seems to have remembered her passion for it. She was always so talented, not just with magic. I think it’s been good for her to be reminded of that.”

“Hey, breakfast bunch. Whatcha talking about?” Andrew sidles up and takes a seat at their table, placing down his plate of avocado toast.  
  
“Hey, Andrew. Just saying how Willow’s still a science-whizz, talking about the big day today.” Dawn chirps.  
  
“Huh.” Andrew plays with his fork absent-mindedly. “So, have we talked about what happens if this plan _doesn’t_ work? If we can’t work the whammy on Laura…what happens next?” He looks nervously between Dawn and Giles. 

Giles straightens up slightly, placing his sandwich down. “No, we haven’t talked about it.”  
  
An awkward silence descends upon the table amidst the bubbling chatter of surrounding Slayers and clattering of crockery.  
  
“Guess we’d better hope it works then…” Andrew falters, before busying his hands with his breakfast.

Giles recognises his good mood has faded abruptly, and silently curses Andrew for his troublesome question.

———————————————————————

Faith’s alarm blares intrusively into the quiet warmth of the bedroom. It shrieks for several seconds, and Faith continues to slumber, completely unfazed by the noise. Buffy begrudgingly accepts the fact that Faith is _not_ going to move to shut it off, so with a whinge she shoves her way out of Faith’s sleeping embrace, leans up and across the brunette’s prone frame and jabs the phone aggressively with her thumb until it shuts up.She registers what time it is, grumbles again, and nestles her way back to her warm ‘little spoon’ spot in between Faith’s arms. _Just a few more minutes…please…_ she bargains in her head with nobody in particular. Buffy gently pulls Faith’s limbs back across her, tucking herself in under the covers. This finally rouses Faith, who pulls Buffy closer, nuzzling the back of her neck.  
  
“Mmm. How d’you smell so good in the mornin, B?” Faith’s voice is gravelly with sleep, more sultry than ever.  
  
“Are you kidding? I probably smell like old garbage…”Buffy mutters.  
  
“Nope,” Faith shifts her weight on the bed, and Buffy feels a thrill pass through her at the sensation of Faith’s pelvis pressing slightly closer against her ass. “You’re immune to morning breath. Dunno how you do it.”  
  
Faith’s right hand strokes the skin on Buffy’s arm, leaving a trail of goosepimples. Buffy’s eyes slide closed as Faith’s lips brush the back of her neck with butterfly softness. “Right here, just… _here…_ ” Faith kisses the highest point of the nape, “…that’s where you smell the best. ‘Specially in the mornings.”

Buffy giggles a little, “What are you talking about?”

Faith kisses the spot again tenderly, “I dunno, it’s just, like, that’s where you smell the most like, _you._ Y’know? Buffy smell. I love it.”  
  
Buffy can’t help but let out a little laugh again; Faith was being so damn sweet, it was beyond adorable. She turns herself around so that they’re facing each other, and takes Faith’s face in her hands gently.  
  
“You are too much _,_ you must know that. My heart cannot handle _you_ being this cute.”  
  
A flicker of a frown passes across Faith’s brow, and Buffy worries that she’s hurt her feelings.  
  
“I love that you love the way I smell.” Buffy adds hastily, before leaning in to kiss Faith’s full lips slowly. “That’s not something I’ve ever been complimented on before.” she smiles, then continues the lazy, still-sleepy kiss.

Faith seems to relax, shifting the covers down a little, crossing her arms behind Buffy’s back and snuggling her head onto her pillow. They lie together, face to face, just comfortably admiring each other for a little while. Buffy’s head is so full of thoughts and feelings about the woman lying in her arms, yet at the same time she feels more clear than ever.  
  
She studies the morning sunlight picking out streaks of subtle auburn in amongst Faith’s dark wavy hair; the tiny amber flecks in her chestnut-brown eyes; the soft curve of her cheek down to her jawline. In awe, Buffy traces a finger lightly here, then strokes Faith’s bottom lip with her thumb. “You are so _beautiful_ , Faith.” she breathes softly, barely aware that she’s saying the words out loud. As she utters them, she realises has never so completely _meant_ something as honestly before.  
  
Faith smiles, her eyes darting away as if she’s embarrassed. But Buffy catches her gaze again, earnestly needing to continue, “I mean it, really. You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, and…and I’m so glad I finally realised it. I have no idea how I managed to live this long without sharing _this_ with you.”

Now it’s Buffy’s turn to look away, feeling ashamed, remembering how she treated Faith for so long. “You deserved so much better than I gave you. You…you still do. I’m so angry with myself for the past. All those years, we could’ve had this - but I pushed you away, I h-hurt you…and we could have had _this…”_ Buffy fights the feeling of tears prickling at the back of her eyes. She feels like such a fool. _  
  
_Faith fixes Buffy with a cheeky, incredulous look, “Nah, you and me back then? Even if we had got it on like we both _clearly_ wanted to - we’d’ve ended up killing each other in the end, B. We were just kids. We made mistakes.” She tucks a stray strand of blonde hair back behind Buffy’s ear. “Look at you now…you’re an amazing grown-ass _woman._ And me, well, maybe I ain’t such a headcase anymore. We’ve both grown out of a lot of bullshit…we both know what we want now…and that’s a hell of a big plus to waiting this long.”  
  
Buffy smiles, her heart full of glowing softness. Faith grins back, dimples showing, a flirtatious look in her eye. “Pretty damn glad we don’t have to wait any more though…”She leans in and kisses Buffy deeply, her hands moving down to caress her waist. Mid-kiss, Faith purrs, “Teenage me would be losing her everlovin’ mind if she could see us now…”

The embrace quickly becomes charged with lust, and Buffy wants nothing more than to lose herself in their passion. But she can’t shake the feeling that the day ahead of her is already trying to drag her out of bed, drawing her head back to anxieties and to-do lists. _Stupid decidedly unsexy thoughts…._ Faith grumbles a little as Buffy pulls back from their kiss, gently catching Faith’s wandering hands in her own.

“Heeey, what gives?” Faith faux-complains, a pouty frown on her face.

“You know this hurts me just as much as it hurts you, but we have bigger things to attend to today.” Buffy uses her best guidance counsellor-voice to try and sound more resigned than she feels.

Faith just responds by making grouchy noises of protest, stubbornly burying her face down against Buffy’s chest, making Buffy chuckle.

“Look, I promise, if today goes well, I’ll make it up to you later, ok?” She strokes Faith’s hair with one hand, lifting her face with the other.  
  
Faith sighs. “Promises promises, baby, you know I’ll hold you to that.” Buffy tilts her head down, meeting Faith’s upturned lips gently with her own.

Maybe it’s knowing how hard today will be, or the heart-to-heart they just had, or maybe it’s just how particularly gorgeous Faith looks lying in her arms, but in that moment, Buffy is overwhelmed by her feelings for her. She tries to send all of it wordlessly into their kiss, desperate for Faith to understand just how _much_ it all is.

Buffy can feel the words brewing inside her, from deep within her chest. As much as she wants to say them out loud, she’s terrified that it’ll spook Faith, or that she won’t feel the same. _If she didn’t say it back…or if she reacted badly, I couldn’t take it,_ Buffy worries to herself. So she stays silent, and kisses Faith with everything she’s got - all the years of heartache, all the confusion melted away, all of it fully evolved into what she feels unmistakably for Faith now; pure love.

———————————————————————

Willow stares at the ceiling, aware that any second her alarm will be going off. It’s early in the morning - too early, really, but she doesn’t want to risk being late and unprepared for the mammoth tasks ahead. _Not that there’s any chance of me sleeping in…You have to be asleep in order for that to happen._ She exhales quietly, not wanting to disturb Kennedy’s softly snoring frame next to her. The last time she had a full night’s rest was too long ago to remember, and Willow allows herself to be hopeful that soon, her task will be done and maybe there’ll be some weight off her mind. Maybe then, she’ll start sleeping again.

She scoots herself gently out of bed, turns off her alarm pre-emptively so Kennedy can sleep longer, then pads into the bathroom to wash up. As she showers, she tries to give herself 15 minutes peace in her own head; a break from worrying about the rogues, and Angel, and her formula… The hot water helps, but she only manages about half a minute of meditative headspace before her worries creep back in again. Resigned, she steps out of the shower, wrapping a towel around herself, and mentally runs over the plan again.

_Step one: Make sure Laura is conscious. She has to be fully awake in order to receive the anointment and first supplication from Nadine._ This would probably be one of the more unpleasant steps in the procedure, as there’s the potential for Laura to be uncooperative, maybe even violent. She’d be restrained, of course, but this was probably going to be pretty difficult to watch for everyone.Nadine would have to bless Laura’s body with some holy water - a slightly weird link to vampirism and Slayer lore that the Coven had advised, something to do with making a pure connection between the Scythe and the Slayer.

_Step two: I administer the first injection._ Willow wipes a space in the steam of the mirror, then brushes out her wet hair. The formula was accurate, she was sure of it - but nevertheless, Willow would be giving a very strong dose of chemicals to another person, and this made her nervous. She’d made sure to alter the dose to account for Laura’s small figure, but makes a mental note to triple check her calculations again first thing.

Willow moisturises her face with a sigh as she notices her smile lines looking a little deeper than she remembers them.  
 _Step three: Nadine performs the spell._ Before today, she’d allowed herself to grumble a little about the fact she didn’t get to be involved in the deep magicks of this process. However, this morning, she finds herself feeling a little relieved. She’d worked so hard to turn herself around as a witch; to no longer feel consumed and controlled by the powerful forces which had caused her to very nearly end the world some years back. But part of her punishment is that she can never let herself forget, nor get complacent about her use of magic. She practices more passive spells now, more _seeing, protecting,_ and _persuading,_ rather than active spells designed to outright change or intrude upon the natural order of things. She had lost that privilege, and that’s why Nadine was so important to the Foundation. Nadine had never let the magicks overrun her - and even though her abilities weren’t as naturally strong as Willow’s, in some ways her extraordinary levels of self-control made her a more powerful witch than Willow could ever be.

She finishes up in the bathroom, moving back into the bedroom to get dressed. Kennedy is awake, just about, and offers her a soft smile as she enters the room.  
  
“Morning, beautiful,” Kennedy sits herself up higher in the bed, “How’d you sleep?”  
  
Willow deflects, “Oh, you know…” trailing off as she picks out a pair of black leggings and an oversize colourful knitted sweater.  
  
“So, you didn’t? Again?” Kennedy raises an eyebrow, “Will, maybe once this is done today, we could go to the infirmary and get you some sleeping tablets…whaddya think?”  
  
A slight frown crosses Willow’s face, “I, uh, yeah, maybe. I know I need sleep, you’re right. But, I might ask Nadine to do something…spell-like instead, rather than, you know, pills.”

She drops her towel to pull on her clothes. Ordinarily she knows Kennedy would say something flirtatious at the sight of her girlfriend naked after a shower, but she’s grateful that this morning, Kennedy correctly senses that Willow is categorically Not In The Mood. Willow continues, “What with everything I’ve been working on these past few weeks, I kinda want a break from pharmaceuticals and drugs for a while. Get back to natural stuff, you know?”  
  
Kennedy nods, “You missing being all witchy? Sister of Gaia and all that?” Willow knows she’s teasing a little, but she doesn’t rise to it.  
  
“Yeah, you know, I am. Can’t help but feeling like the creepy mad scientist in all this…” Dressed, she sits on the side of the bed, “…I know it’s what the Foundation needs me to be right now, but it doesn’t feel like _me,_ you know?”  
  
Kennedy sits forward to take Willow’s hands in her own. “It doesn’t have to be you forever, ok? We needed your brain to figure out the formula. Once we know it works, it doesn’t always have to be you who delivers it to the rogues. Also, you could never be creepy.” She strokes the back of Willow’s freckled hand with her thumb, “I know how hard this has been on you, and I’m so proud of what you’ve done.”

For a second, Willow allows herself to smile back at her, before the familiar lurch of fear and nerves jolts her stomach again. She stands, wringing her hands, “Well, maybe don’t be proud of me until we _know_ it’s worked and Laura’s not dead or paralysed ‘cos of me…”  
  
Kennedy stands out of bed and draws her arms around Willow’s waist, “Shhh,” she whispers, before pulling her into a gentle kiss. With her own kind of magic, Kennedy successfully silences Willow’s nervous feeling in her belly and replaces it with warm tingles. Willow allows herself to melt into Kennedy’s kiss, cradling her soft face in her hands. Kennedy’s tongue dances briefly against Willow’s, then she breaks away and just holds Willow in her strong arms, stroking her damp red hair.  
  
The pair sway ever so slightly together in the morning sunlight, Slayer and witch, and Willow closes her eyes, enjoying this feeling of peace that she’s been searching for ever since she got out of bed. “You always know what I need…” she smiles over Kennedy’s shoulder.

“That’s ‘cos I love you, Willow.” Kennedy murmurs back.

“I love you too, so much.”  
  
“You’ve got this, baby. I’m your kite string, remember? That goes for everything - not just magic.”  
  
“I remember.” Willow squeezes Kennedy a little tighter, desperate to savour this moment of tranquility, even though she can already feel the insistent tugging of the outside world on her thoughts.

———————————————————————

As agreed, at nine AM, everybody convenes in a spacious, unused old study in the bowels of the old house. Dawn feels uncomfortable on behalf of the room -like its dusty space is somehow being disturbed by so many living bodies in it all at once, and for such an important reason. She catches the absurdity of this thought process and bins it quickly, focussing her attention back to the people in front of her. The atmosphere is palpably tense, even Andrew and Xander keep their wisecracking to a minimum.

After everyone’s exchanged pleasantries, Buffy looks to Willow and Nadine. “Shall we get started?” 

There’s nods and murmurs of agreement, but everybody looks uncomfortable - nobody quite meeting each other’s eyes. Dawn glances at the metal chair specially placed in the centre of the space. It’s been bolted to the floor, as have the iron fixtures for the manacles and chains attached to its arms. _Ready for Laura…_ she thinks, a slight wave of nausea passing through her body. Dawn is completely behind the decision the Foundation have made to go ahead with the unmaking process, but that doesn’t mean she’s exactly thrilled by what’s about to happen.  
  
Willow nods at Kennedy, signalling that it’s time to fetch Laura. Kennedy squeezes her hand briefly, then leaves the room with three additional Slayers backing her up. Nobody is willing to take any risks today.

On a large bench not far from the chair, Nadine is preparing her supplies to cast her all-important spell. She has laid out various bowls, bottles, herbs, as well as a black velvet cloth, which she unfolds to reveal the Scythe in all its splendour. Dawn’s eyes are drawn to this as it shines magnificently, catching the light on its curved metal and beautiful ruby red of the axe head. She sees Buffy move slowly towards it, placing her hand lightly on the hilt. She doesn’t lift it, it’s almost like she’s just checking in with it, making sure it’s still real. Dawn wonders if all the memories of the Battle of Sunnydale are playing through her sister’s head, all the pain and the triumph. Whether she too is remembering Spike’s twinkling eyes and chiselled features, feeling heartbreak at his death all over again.

Xander shuffles awkwardly over to Nadine, his hands in his pockets. “So, ah, you think everything’s ready for the spell?” 

Nadine continues to look over her equipment as if Xander had never spoken. “I know it is.” she murmurs cooly.  
  
Dawn watches Xander bob his head up and down, like a nodding dog ornament. “Right, right, of course. Gotcha…gotcha _‘erbs_ there, your holy water, and your, whatever that is…” he waves his hand at a complex looking carved metal talisman.  
  
“That is Hecate’s wheel. I will ask for her wisdom and guidance in our task.”   
  
“Oh right, Hecate! I’ve heard of her. Caught Willow invoking her name quite a bit back in the day…” Xander grins, but Dawn sees Willow shoot him a ‘shut the fuck up’ look, prompting him to change the subject rapidly. “So, uh, when this is all over, maybe do you wanna grab a drink sometime? Not much nightlife round here, but there’s a pub down the r-”

He falters as Nadine turns full-bodied to face him, raising a hand. “Xander. I am very busy right now, so I do not wish to discuss this further. However,” she regards him steadily, ignoring his deer-in-the-headlights expression, “I do find you physically attractive, moderately speaking. I will agree to a private social engagement with you, at a later date.”With that, she turns back to her work.  
  
Dawn stifles a chuckle as Xander noticeably gulps like a fish, before beaming idiotically, squeaking, “Cool, very cool. ‘Kay, then…” then he scuttles away, flashing a double thumbs up to Willow, who rolls her eyes. _High school never ends…._

The brief levity Dawn feels is crunched away by Faith, who starts to pace slowly near the chair, her eyes fixed on it, her mouth drawn into a grim line. Her arms are crossed across her chest, her boots knock steadily against the wooden floor. For a moment, that’s the only noise in the room, and it feels like a jackhammer pounding through the silence. It almost becomes too much to bear for Dawn, who’s about to say something, but she’s beaten to it by Andrew,  
  
“Hey, um, you wanna knock it off? You’re freaking me out stomping around like that…” He blurts, then immediately looks like he regrets it as Faith snaps to look at him.  
  
“Yo, if you can’t stand a little tension what makes you think you can deal with what’s comin’ next? What are you even doing here, man?” Faith demands. As much as she may have a point, even Dawn thinks her words come across a little too cutting.  
  
“Faith, come on,” Buffy starts gently, reaching out for her.  
  
“Nah, B, jeez.” Faith shrugs her off, continues to pace. “The guy’s useless. He’s just gonna be collateral damage if this thing goes south.”

_Wow. Harsh._

Andrew sinks back further against the desk he’s leaning on, looking at his shoes. Very quietly, refusing to meet Faith’s glare, he says, “I was there when we picked her up. Laura. I found her and brought her here…I…I told her she’d be ok and that we’d look after her…I wanna know she’s gonna be alright.”  
  
Faith stops pacing, then sighs, shaking her hands out. “Look… sorry, Andrew. I was outta line.” Dawn is surprised at how soft and measured her words are. “You got just as much a right to be here as any of us. Guess maybe it’s me who ain’t dealing too good with pre-match nerves.”

Faith sidles up to Buffy, nudging her arm with her own. The look on her sister’s face is one of pride and adoration, it’s unmistakable to Dawn. Heck, even _she_ herself feels proud of Faith, of how far she’s come from the angry livewire she used to be. _She’s the person who deserves Buffy, and the person who Buffy deserves._ Dawn smiles at the sight of the two of them, shoulder to shoulder, blonde gazing at brunette; chalk and cheese, day and night, light and darkness. _Perfect for each other._ Mentally, Dawn makes a note that she absolutely will have that conversation with Buffy later. She wants to tell her how proud she is of them, how much she loves them both. 

Giles straightens up, “It’s not just you, Faith. I think it’s safe to say, we’re all feeling…apprehensive.”

Willow moves a syringe filled with an opaque white liquid half a millimetre to the left, accidentally clattering a beaker with the back of her hand as she does so. “Not me, nope! Bring it on, I say…” She fake smiles, then looks distinctly queasy. 

At this point, the doors burst open and Kennedy marches through, followed by three Slayers manhandling what appears to be a trussed up small pile of blankets and cables. It’s Laura, a blanket over her head and torso, her arms bound by a thick coil of rope. Each leg has a separate chain around it, attached to a Slayer. This allows her to walk, but overall they have complete control over the rogue’s movements.

They aren’t rough or violent with Laura, but they do plop her into the chair somewhat unceremoniously. She killed three of their own the night before, so Dawn isn’t surprised the Slayers are less than gentle.Once safely shackled into her restraints, the blanket is removed from Laura’s head, causing her to squint at the brightness in her eyes.

Dawn is prepared for her to start screaming, or thrashing around, even for her somehow to still be possessed by Angel again (even though she knows this is now impossible, thanks to the spells performed last night.) What she’s not prepared for is Laura’s calm, almost semi-conscious state. Once her eyes have adjusted to the light, she takes a brief scan at the faces watching her from around the room, then she slumps her chin down to her chest, her hair falling across her face.  
  
It feels like nobody breathes for a good while. Buffy and Giles exchange worried looks, even Nadine’s brow is furrowed. Finally, Dawn plucks up the courage to speak, even though her voice trembles. “Kennedy…is she still sedated?”  
  
Kennedy shakes her head, staring at the girl tied to the chair. “No, she’s clean and awake. She was like that when we picked her up. Just, sorta, limp.”  
  
“Figured she’d be spittin’ feathers after last night…” Faith muses,  
  
“No, she’s not said anything at all. Didn’t put up any kind of fight, just kinda l _et us_ tie her up and take her.” Kennedy confirms. 

Giles takes off his glasses and takes a step towards Laura’s quiet form, “Perhaps she is still feeling some after effects of Angel’s possession…mayb-”

“If you’re gonna kill me, can you just get on with it… please?” a small voice rises from the rogue in the centre of the room, stunning Giles into silence.

“What?” Buffy approaches Laura cautiously, a slight frown on her face. “Laura, we’re not going to kill you.”  
  
“He told me you was gonna kill me. Said you’d do it whatever happened.”  
  
Dawn watches Buffy’s nostrils flare as she breathes steadily, trying to calm herself. “Who said that to you?”  
  
“…the angel in my head. Said he was one of God’s angels. Said you was keepin’ me just to kill me in the end. Me ’n’ all them other evil girls. Then he…he said he’d prove he was an angel…so he did a miracle, made it so I was outside…”

Faith grits her jaw, turns away, clearly furious but choosing ( _wisely,_ Dawn thinks) not to say anything. 

Buffy’s face is a mask. Dawn marvels at how good she’s getting at doing that these days. 

“Please, look at me.” Buffy’s voice is calm and unwavering. When Laura doesn’t move, Buffy bends down to sit on her haunches and meet Laura’s eyes. Dawn feels a twinge of worry seeing Buffy in such close proximity to someone so unstable, before remembering the child is completely bound and there’s no way she could lash out. 

Eventually, Laura’s head raises by a couple of centimetres and she stares at Buffy. Her small face is resigned, almost blank, but there’s still confusion and fear in her eyes. It’s heartbreaking to see. 

“I hurt them lasses. I…I did bad things, but the angel told me it wouldn’t matter. He told me if I could get away, it’d be ok and God’d forgive me…” The words almost fall out of her, hushed and guilty, “I’m so good at hurting people…He said it’s my gift from God… ”

Buffy places a hand gently on Laura’s shoulder - causing the girl to flinch and let out a squeak. “Laura, it’s alright. That…that _thing_ that spoke to you in your head, it wasn’t an angel, ok? It wasn’t sent from God. I promise you that.” 

“Damn right…” Xander mutters from the background.Dawn shoots him a look, but in truth, she knows everyone in the room feels the same way. Giles is scowling at the floor and Faith is practically grinding her teeth. _How could Angel have done that to a child? Even a child as broken as this one?_

“My name’s Buffy. These are my friends. We’re…well, I know you might not believe me, but we’re the good guys.”  
  
Laura darts her eyes around the room again, not looking convinced.“He said it were my gift from _God…_ but…but I don’t think I want it.” she whispers.

Buffy looks back over her shoulder at Willow, then across to Nadine. “We can help you, ok? You don’t have to have it anymore. You don’t have to remember any of it.”

Dawn watches a tear trail silently down Willow’s cheek, but notices she doesn’t look as nervous or as pasty as she did before. _Maybe hearing Laura speak helped Willow realise we’re doing the right thing…If we get this right, the rogues don’t have to be bad Slayers anymore. They can just be normal people_ _again. Flawed, dishonest, human._

Laura continues to peer at Buffy, “You can make it so I’m me again? So I don’t feel like this no more?”  
  
Buffy smiles, “Yeah. We can do that. Do you want us to do that?”  
  
The girl makes a tiny nod, her gaze dropping again to the floor. “Please. Please make it stop.” she sobs gently. 

“Ok. It’s gonna be ok.” Buffy presses her hands to the side of Laura’s gently shuddering body. Not quite a hug, but a genuine expression of comfort. Then, she stands and turns to the two witches. “It’s time.”  
  
Nadine approaches Laura, holding a small vial of holy water. She gently tips Laura’s head up, stroking away her messy hair so her forehead is exposed. Smiling sweetly, her voice is like melted candle wax as she says, “You have nothing to fear. You have my word, we will not hurt you.” Her soft tones seem to relax the child in her chair, and she doesn’t recoil as Nadine dips the tips of her fingers in the holy water, then carefully traces those fingers horizontally across Laura’s forehead, then her cheeks, then her chin. She repeats this twice more, completing the anointing process she’d explained to everyone while they were planning this last night.  
  
The whole room is completely enrapt as Nadine returns the vial to the table, picking up the Scythe lying on the fabric. Laura’s eyes widen as she catches sight of the weapon, and she sits straighter up in her chair as if to try and cower away from it. She stops struggling though when Nadine simply holds the Scythe flat out in front of her, as if offering it to Laura.

In a rich, resonant voice, Nadine begins to chant the most beautiful string of words Dawn’s ever heard. She recognises bits and pieces of the words as being Ancient Sumerian, and recalls the shadow-casters from years ago when Buffy had gone through a portal to meet the men who’d created the First Slayer. But this language was different; Dawn supposed that was only right, as the Scythe wasn’t forged by these men, but by the women who had wanted to protect the Slayer; The Guardians.  
  
All at once, Dawn feels her connection to an eons-old journey: a circle starting with the creation of the First Slayer, to the Guardians, to the Council, to Buffy, to Sunnydale, and now here - to the New Guardian Foundation and the unmaking. Even on the sidelines as she is, the _hugeness_ of it is almost overwhelming.

Nadine’s chanting swells in volume, and Dawn watches the Scythe glow ever so slightly, swearing she can hear a slight hum filling the room as it does. As the warm, white light emanates more strongly from it, small silver flecks of something ethereal float slowly up and away from the weapon, drawn towards Laura as if magnetised to her. The specks land on her then disappear harmlessly, like snowflakes melting onto her skin. She watches all of this, fascinated, and doesn’t appear to be scared anymore. 

Nadine steps back, carefully replacing the Scythe back on the bench. Looking across to Willow, she nods, “She is ready.”  
  
Willow takes a couple of small steps towards Laura, who seems to have been engulfed in a peaceful calm. “Hey, Laura. I’m Willow.” she smiles weakly, wiping a patch of skin on Laura’s arm down with an alcohol wipe. “This next bit, you might feel a pinch, ok? Nothing too bad. Just a shot.”The child offers no response, but no objection either.

Willow takes the syringe in her hand, then takes a deep breath in. _She’s losing her nerve…_ Dawn worries. She can see the struggle Willow’s working through - she’s clearly so exhausted. Buffy moves to stand beside her friend, looking concerned. Then Willow steadies her hand, and in one smooth movement administers the injection carefully into Laura’s arm. If the rogue feels any pain, she doesn’t show it; she’s still gazing, trancelike, into the middle distance in the direction of where the Scythe was held in front of her moments ago. 

Willow walks away, places the syringe back onto a table, then eagerly tumbles into Kennedy’s arms before turning back to watch Nadine perform the final step. 

The black witch returns to Laura’s side, this time with a mortar bowl in one hand. The bowl contains a blue-green flame, brilliantly burning some combination of strong-smelling herbs. Nadine is chanting again now, holding the bowl of fire out above Laura’s head. _This is the casting…make or break…_

Dawn realises she’s chewing her bottom lip as she watches Nadine make complicated movements with her opposite hand. She puts it right through the otherwordly flame, like she’s painting a symbol in the air in front of her with the fire as her ink. Soon, there’s a supersonic low boom, quiet but all encompassing, which seems to draw itself _inward_ towards Laura, like a sonic version of ripples on a lake’s surface, but in reverse. Then silence. Nadine becomes quiet and still, Laura’s eyes slide shut.

After some minutes, Willow speaks, her voice measured and soft.“We…we need to monitor her now. See how she is for 24 hours…then we do this all again.” 

Laura appears unconscious, but not distressed as she’s carefully carried out of the room and taken back to her cell.  
  
“That was incredible, guys. You both did an awesome job.” Buffy compliments Willow and Nadine. “You should both just take the rest of the day, you know? Try to relax.”  
  
Willow shakes her head, “I’m gonna take first watch on Laura - I want to make sure her vitals stay steady. The formula should start working straight away on her body. She’ll probably feel a bit crappy while it, you know, makes her weaker, slower. Less Slayer-y.”  
  
Kennedy takes her hand. “I’ll take second watch.”  
  
Faith briefly raises her arm, “I wanna check in as well, so I’ll take third.”  
  
Buffy nods at Faith, “Then I’ll go after you.”

Andrew pipes up, “Um, I’d like to take a shift too. If that’s ok…?” 

Dawn smiles at him, “Well I’d better clock on after you to make sure you’ve not driven her too nuts, Andrew.”

Buffy looks to Nadine, “You’d better get some rest though now, ok? That spell-casting looked pretty intense. We need you fresh for tomorrow and the day after, we got two more of those to go.”  
  
Nadine sighs, “Yeah, intense is a correct summary. I’d appreciate the recovery time. I’ll go consult with the Coven now, they’ll want to know how it went.” As she sweeps towards the door, she lays a hand gently on Willow’s arm, “That was excellently done, Willow.”

Willow smiles, and Kennedy beams at her.

As everybody begins to leave, Dawn catches Faith’s eye and shifts over, “Hey, you doin’ ok in there?” she asks the Slayer nervously.  
  
Faith exhales, “That was some pretty full on shit. I shouldn’ta let myself get so wound up beforehand.” She looks sheepish, then her gaze drops to the floor. “Something about Angel getting in that kid’s head, tellin’ her all that bad stuff, it…I dunno…hit me pretty close to home.”  
  
Dawn nods, trying to show Faith that she’s listening and not judging, hoping she’ll continue talking.  
  
“It’s not just cos it’s him doing it. That’s difficult, to watch, sure. He’s a full-on, power crazed bad guy. It’s hard to accept, but I get it.” Faith hugs her arms around herself before looking at Dawn again. “It’s just…seeing another fucked-up kid being used and jerked around by someone much stronger than she is. It gets me so mad. Pro’ly something I should talk to a shrink about, right?” She flashes Dawn a dimpled half smile, but there’s no real mirth there.

“You calmed yourself down though, Faith, we all saw. That’s something you should be really proud of. High-pressure environment, emotional triggers, you pulled through it. Didn’t let it own you.”

Faith’s smile holds, she faux punches Dawn softly on the shoulder, “When did you get so damn wise? And tall?” she jokes. 

Dawn straightens her back - noticing happily that she’s actually a good couple of inches taller than Faith. “Not all Summers women are pocket sized…” she says a little louder than before as she notices Buffy coming over to join them.  
  
“Hey, at least I don’t hit my head on low-hanging things as much as you. Maybe that’s why I’m so much smarter than you are…” Buffy teases. She squeezes Faith’s hand before pulling Dawn into a hug. “You alright after that?”

Dawn’s internal teenager always recoils a little bit when Buffy fusses over her.“I’m fine - I didn’t even have to do anything.”  
  
Buffy steps back, “That’s not what I mean. It was tough for all of us.”  
  
“Probably worse for you guys? Isn’t it weird, watching a Slayer get her powers removed? I mean, that’s gotta be a head-scratcher for you both…” Dawn wavers off, mid-sentence, realising that both Buffy and Faith are now looking uncomfortable.  
  
“Yeah. It’s…well…” Buffy struggles to find words, 

“It’s what needs to be done.” Faith finishes, with a slight frown on her face. “Doesn’t mean it’s a fun day, no. But it’s better than the alternative.”  
  
She addresses Buffy, “Imma take off, ok? Gonna go hit the punch bags for a bit. Maybe get rid of some of… _this_ …” she waves her hands around herself, indicating her own feelings. “Come find me if you wanna spar?” She places a light kiss on the back of Buffy’s hand, before throwing a “catch ya later, Dawnster” as she strides out of the room. 

The Summers sisters watch her leave. Buffy smiles at Dawn, “I should probably go with her before she pummels the whole gym to dust…”  
  
Dawn interjects, “Wait, do…do you wanna come grab a decent coffee with me from the canteen first? We could talk properly?” Buffy looks a little surprised, but then her smile widens.  
  
“Yeah, I really do. That’d be great.”  
  
Dawn beams as Buffy links her arm with hers, and they walk together out of the now-empty room, leaving behind pale beams of daylight and the chair, its manacles and chains coiled onto the floor.


	15. Chapter 15

Laura notices she’s awake, and sitting in a room full of strangers. _Huh, didn’t realise I was asleep…_ her thoughts start up, then begin to whirr. _Wait, why was I asleep in front of all these people?_ Her awareness continues to slide back, and she feels weird locks around her wrists, chains on her legs. Her heart starts to beat a little faster, and her breathing picks up.   
  
“Hey, you’re ok, Laura. It’s alright.” A petite blonde woman crouches in front of her, her green eyes earnestly staring into her own, like she’s checking for something.  
  
“Wh…what? How’d you know my name?” Laura babbles, unsure why that particular challenge comes out first from the long list of questions lining up in her head.She tries to move against her restraints, but her limbs feel oddly heavy and slow.

“You’re safe, I promise. We’ve been looking after you here. You… you got lost, and it was making you sick. So we helped you get better.” 

The blonde stands and moves back, allowing Laura to see the assortment of other grown-ups staring at her. There’s a brunette with large dark eyes; two young(ish) guys, (one nervous looking blonde, one _with an actual eyepatch? What the hell?); a_ nother young woman with long mousy hair; and a tough looking girl with a chestnut brown ponytail standing cross-armed by the door.A black lady and a pale redhead stand nearby, who exchange looks. The redhead speaks up, “Laura, what can you remember?” 

She wracks her brains, finding it surprisingly difficult to recall anything past two minutes ago. “I…I know I…ran away? I was with new these foster people in…the countryside somewhere.” She feels a wave of embarrassment, as she remembers losing her temper at them. She knows they were ok people, only trying to help, but they never understood how much _worse_ they made everything by trying so hard. She couldn’t remember what she’d lost her temper about…Had she done something bad? 

“That’s right, you ran away.” An older man with grey hair and glasses steps into view from behind her, his eyes glinting, but kind. “You ran away, and you got lost, and we found you. Do you remember any of that?”   
  
There’s nothing solid in her mind - just flashes of some horrible cold barn, driving rain, wind howling through the planks… _had I been living in there?_ She frowns with effort and frustration, as fragmented images flutter rapidly in and out of her consciousness like bats at dusk. Then she remembers the boys… “There were these nasty lads, they threw stuff at me, said I was a tramp…”

“Yes. Then what?” the man with the posh accent asks, a cautious look on his face.   
  
Try as she might, Laura can only bring up these foggy remnants of memories, then _nothing_ until being in this room with these people. She shakes her head, unable to properly explain. She realises she’s incredibly tired - her whole body feels achy and worn out. _But that doesn’t make sense if I’ve been asleep all this time…_ she wonders to herself.  
  
The man nods, then asks, slowly, “Laura, do you know what a Slayer is?”  
  
She shakes her head, unsure, “Er, I lived with a brother once who had Slayer t-shirts and posters, they’re a band, int they?”

“What about vampires? Demons?” his eyes are intensely fixed on hers.   
  
Now she’s really confused. “Like, Draculas and Frankensteins, you mean? I seen some bits of them films…” she offers, uncertain.   
  
The man and the blonde woman look at each other, then the other lady speaks in a smooth, powerful voice. “It appears we have been successful. I will go and let the Coven know.”  
  
She leaves, then the redhead approaches Laura, a cheery grin on her face, but there’s something fearful underneath, making Laura tense up. “Hey, do you remember me? I’m Willow.”  
  
“I never seen you before…” Laura shakes her head. _This is all too weird._

“OK, well, if it’s alright I’d like to just examine you to make sure you’re not still…um…sick. Is that ok? It’s not gonna hurt, don’t worry.”  
  
“I ent got a choice, ‘av I? I’m tied to a chair. _Why_ am I tied to a chair?” Laura’s confusion begins to give way to annoyance.

The redhead’s smile falters, she looks across at the blonde. “Um, we’ll get you out of there just as soon as we know you’re safe.”  
  
“Safe from what…?” Laura mumbles, as the lady checks Laura’s pulse, her temperature, her reflexes with a stupid little hammer, shines a light in her eyes, making notes of the results on a notepad. After a few more prods and pokes, she unshackles Laura’s hands, then goes to the nearby table and picks up a small piece of metal pipe. She hands it to Laura.   
  
“Can you bend this in half for me, please?”   
  
Laura looks at the lump of metal in her hand incredulously, “What, like, just with me hands? You ‘avin a laugh?”  
  
“That’s right. See if you can bend it, or twist it. Try as hard as you can.”  
  
Feeling decidedly foolish, Laura looks around the room to see if anyone’s snickering, making fun of her. To her surprise, everyone looks very serious - their eyes fixed on her hands.  
  
She shrugs, and braces her two hands against the cold pipe. It’s heavy - clearly very solid and very real. _This lot are insane…_ she thinks to herself as she sets her jaw and tries with all her might to do what has been asked of her. … _But I may as well play along with these idiots whilst I’m stuck here…_

To what she assumes is nobody’s surprise, the pipe doesn’t shift at all in her grip. She strains with effort, hurting her wrist in the process, but nothing happens - it retains its shape as straight as ever.

“Nope, sorry. Guess I’m not King Arthur or whatever. Why’d you ask? As if anyone could even do summat like that…” She looks round, expecting to see disappointment, but in fact the redhead is grinning broadly, everyone else looks like they’ve breathed a sigh of relief.   
  
“That’s great, Laura, you did so good.” The woman called Willow turns to the green-eyed blonde, who’s also smiling.

She now stands in front of the chair, and raises her forearm in front of Laura.“OK, I want you to squeeze my arm as hard as you possibly can.”

Tentatively, Laura wraps one hand around her golden skin. “You sure? I’m pretty strong…I think…”  
  
The blonde nods, then gives her a conspiratorial wink, “Don’t worry, I don’t bruise much. Give it your best shot.”

Laura sets her jaw and, watching the woman’s face for any negative reaction or indication that she’s going to be in trouble, she squeezes with all her might down onto her forearm.  
  
After a while, Laura finds herself gritting her teeth with exertion, but the blonde barely reacts at all - she just smiles more. _This gets weirder and weirder…_ Laura releases her grip, worn out. _  
  
_“She’s strong - I mean, she’s strong for a kid. But that’s it. Just normally strong. Nothing else.”  
  
The brunette standing behind breathes, “Damn, that’s some nice chemistry, Will!”   
  
The redhead beams, Laura sees tears forming in her pale blue eyes. Clearly, everyone was very happy about something. “I…I was so worried she would lose her motor functions, or something worse! God she’s…she’s really ok - ”

The posh-sounding older guy steps forward, “I think perhaps it’s time we, uh, make plans to send Laura home.”

As much as Laura wants to be free from this chair and, probably, away from these lunatics, the thought of going home makes her stomach clench. _What if the fosterers won’t take me back again?_

Maybe the uncertainty in her face was obvious, because the man looks at her again and continues, “We’ve already located your foster parents, who have been worried sick about where you’ve been. They’re good people, Laura. They just want you home again.” He smiles gently, and something within Laura wants to believe him.   
  
Something comes back to her, “Sarah…her name’s Sarah…and he’s, erm, Lucas? Is that right?”  
  
The grey man dips his head, “That’s quite right, yes. They’re expecting you home any day now.”  
  
“Can I go then?” She asks - trying to remain polite but also really very keen to get out of the chair.  
  
The man nods again, then steps backwards, allowing the redhead to come forward again.  
  
Laura looks around, bewildered, seeing smiling faces around her. _Well, I must’ve done summat right for them all to look so chuffed…_ she thinks.

She sees the redhead approach, then throw a fist full of colourful red powder over the top of Laura’s head. Outraged and sneezing, before she has time to throw an insult, Laura hears hears two sharp, foreign-sounding words.

Then everything goes black again.

  
  
———————————————————————

A moment passes.  
  
“She’s unconscious,” confirms Giles, “We’re clear.”The knot of tension in his chest finally begins to ease off.   
  
Everyone in the room is visibly relieved -Dawn crosses over to Giles and hugs him tightly - which he returns earnestly. Buffy and Faith share a tender kiss, Xander even hugs Andrew, slapping him on the back.

Buffy disentangles herself from Faith’s arms, calling over to Willow, “Will, can you reach Nadine? She should be back here for this.”

Willow nods, then steadies her breathing before shutting her eyes in order to try and psychically call her fellow witch. Then she takes a cloth from her table and wipes the remaining sandalwood powder from her hands. Giles notices tears are running down her face. Kennedy runs over to wrap her arms around Willow, holding her softly.  
  
“I’m sorry….” Willow manages to gasp, “I’m so sorry, it’s just that…she’s ok. I didn’t break her, I didn’t break her…”  
  
“Shhh, baby, you didn’t break her. You _helped_ her, you did it perfect!” Kennedy soothes, gently rocking her back and forth. 

Giles feels his heart ache, he knows just how much Willow and Nadine have worked to make this happen. Today was the third and final day of Laura’s unmaking. _And thank God, it’s worked,_ Giles allows himself to break into a smile.   
  
He loosens the restraints on Laura, and calls Xander and Andrew over to assist him in gently laying Laura’s sleeping form down onto a stretcher in the corner of the room.   
  
“So she’s just, what, in a really deep sleep?” Andrew asks Giles.  
  
“Yes, essentially. Now that we’re sure she’s physically healthy, her Slayer powers removed, and that she has no memory of her calling, nor her actions in the last few weeks, all that’s left to be done is return her to her former life.”   
  
Andrew’s mouth turns down at the edges, “I still don’t think it’s right. That we just drop her back into the crappy life she had…”   
  
Giles sighs, “Andrew, we talked about this - the decision was made by all of us…”They both look up as Nadine re-enters the room, met immediately by a massive hug from Willow and Kennedy, all three of them grinning and laughing.Giles continues, “The decision was made by all of us: our duty is to de-activate them as Slayers, not to intervene in other aspects of their lives.”  
  
Andrew shakes his head, looks again at the sleeping child. “But, she’s just a kid…”   
  
Giles interjects, “She’s a child in foster care, yes. The placement family she has is good, and now that she’s not plagued by supernatural abilities and visions of demons, she’ll find it easier to be part of that family. She still has to work hard to make something of her life -” Giles pauses, raising his eyebrows and meeting Andrew’s gaze again to emphasise his point, “- _just like everyone else._ That’s what this was all about, remember? Not a Slayer, just a person. With all the opportunities and pitfalls everyone else faces in the pursuit of a normal, happy life.”  
  
Andrew nods. “I know.” his voice soft. “I just wish she could’ve been a Slayer, you know?”  
  
Giles removes his glasses, polishing them against his shirt. As he replaces them, he lowers his voice. “You and I both know, that could never have happened. In the past, the Slayers who couldn’t shoulder their responsibilities ended up dead at a very young age. That’s what awaited her as a Slayer. Either that, or working as a henchman for Wolfram and Hart.” 

Andrew looks up at Giles, nodding. “It’s better this way.” Giles pats the younger man on the shoulder, then looks up as Kennedy approaches them.   
  
“We’ve arranged transport - they’re ready now to take her safely back north.” Kennedy confirms.  
  
“Excellent. I’ll call Sarah and Lucas, let them know.”

Kennedy raises an eyebrow, “They didn’t have questions about where she’s been?”   
  
“Oh they had questions, certainly,” Giles responds, “but with Willow’s help, I think I convinced them that Laura’s been awol - another runaway incident…she does have a history for that. They just want her back, really.”

Later that day, sitting in his private quarters, Giles receives a phone call, confirming that Laura has been returned safely back to her foster parents. She’s unable to describe where she’s been or what’s happened to her, but she reported being looked after by a “bunch of weird Americans”.  
  
Giles places the phone down, and stands to look out of his window. A light snow has started to fall, and the evening is already eating away at the weak sunlight filtering through the steely sky. He looks at Safe Camp, starkly visible through the skeletons of trees without their leaves. For the first time in ages, the view doesn’t summon the usual unpleasant, itch-like sensation in his stomach. _The unmaking process works; the rogues don’t have to be jailed and forgotten about forever._ _An imperfect solution for an imperfect world…_ Giles muses, then finishes his glass of whiskey in one gulp. He notices that the decanter is now empty - he feels this is fitting. He’d been drinking a lot more over the previous months, not due in small part to the stresses of what to do about the rogue Slayers. Now, he feels hopeful that the problem can be solved, and the whiskey is gone.

Laura would be closely observed, of course, from a distance by a friend of Giles’s. If there were any sign indicating that the process had somehow failed, Giles would be informed straight away. He prays it does not come to that.

He thinks about how difficult the next few weeks are going to be for the Foundation’s core members. Nadine and Willow would be repeating the process on the remaining eight rogues, before they too are sent back out into the world.

———————————————————————

Back in their bedroom, the two Slayers lie entangled in each other’s arms. As she’s coming down from the euphoria she’s just shared with Buffy, Faith feels the skin on the back of her neck reverberating pleasantly, made all the more delicious by her thumb tracing languid strokes up and down. They’d both needed a release after the triumph of the day - Faith got the impression everybody did, to be honest. She’d wager Willow and Kennedy were probably somewhere getting it on as well… _maybe even Xander and Nadine_ …she quickly shakes that thought free from her brain.Everyone had been so tense, hoping beyond hope that Laura would be ok. _And she is,_ Faith thinks, _so we can be too._

“I’ve been thinking…” Buffy’s soft voice breaks Faith from her trance. “…the unmaking process…would you ever…” Faith looks into her eyes, frowning at what she’s hearing. “…would you ever consider it?Now we know it works…we could _not_ be Slayers anymore. We could retire, I mean really retire.”

Faith leans her head back so she can get a better look at Buffy’s face. She tries to think of the most delicate way to answer the question. “ _Fuck_ no, B.”   
  
Buffy laughs, “I’m serious! Take away all these memories of the horrible things we’ve both been through - all of it. You could start again as a normal person.”

“And why the hell would I want to do that? Why the hell would you?”  
  
Buffy sighs, “Look, I know. I’m not saying I’m signing myself up. But, like Dawn said - it’s got me thinking. I wondered if you were thinking about it too, is all.”   
  
Faith takes a moment. Then, she strokes Buffy’s face as she says, “You’re right, I mean, it’s an option, I guess. But no way am I signing out of bein’ a Slayer. Neither should you! We’ve both been through some rough shit, for sure. Stuff we can’t ever unsee…” she pauses, “…but being the Slayer I am is the best part of me, it’s _saved_ the rest of me. Without it - I’d be nobody.”

Buffy takes Faith’s hand in her own, kissing it gently. “You could never be nobody, Faith. There’s so much more to you than slaying.”

“There’s no way they could take my Slayer memories without taking my memories of you. And I ain’t giving that up for nothin’ in all the world.” Faith earnestly replies. “Even the times we were shitty to each other. It’s all led to this.”  
  
“I know what you mean. I resented being the Slayer so much when I was younger. But…it’s the most honest, consistent part of my life. The rest of the world never really made that much sense to me - or at least it didn’t.” Buffy confesses, “Feels different now though. Now I have you back…it’s like the Slayer and the rest of me finally want the same things. And yeah, I’m not giving that up. Not ever.”

Faith smiles softly, holds her girl tighter, and they fall into a comfortable silence again. She lies, half dozing, half gazing at the blonde miracle lounging in her embrace. _How the hell did I get here?_ Faith muses, wondering at her romantic rags-to-riches luck. Not so long ago, she was resigned to her life being a complete waste of time. She’d spent all her energy bouncing from one extreme to the other - either drinking herself numb, or fucking anyone who might give her some sort of feeling. Now, she’s with _Buffy. The_ Buffy. _Her_ Buffy _,_ who can make her feel more than she’s ever felt before, but also give her this beautiful serene calm she’s always dreamed of. It’s more than Faith ever allowed herself to imagine, even in her wildest fantasies.She sighs, stroking the soft pale sheen of Buffy’s bare shoulder, before lowering her lips to kiss that spot.  
  
“ _My kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder…_ ” Faith breathes quietly, to herself.  
  
“…Huh?” Buffy’s green eyes slide back open, a curious look on her face.

Faith feels a little embarrassed, “It’s a lyric. Y’ever listen to Jeff Buckley?”  
  
Buffy shakes her head. “I never spent that much time listening to music. Guess that makes me kinda lame, huh?”

“Not lame. But you are missin’ out. There’s some good shit out there.”   
  
Buffy wrinkles her nose. “Yeah, I remember some of the heavy trash you used to listen to…I’ll pass, thanks!”  
  
Faith scoffs, “Firstly, metal is awesome, not trash. Secondly, Jeff ain’t metal. He had a beautiful voice, real soulful songs. I think maybe you’d like his stuff. Anyway…that’s one of his lines… poetic, romantic. Seemed appropriate.” For emphasis, she kisses Buffy’s shoulder again.   
  
Buffy smiles, raising an eyebrow, “Never figured you for appreciating a tortured artist!”

“Hey, I got all kindsa layers, Summers,” Faith laughs.  
  
“See! You _are s_ o much more than just a Slayer! The more I find out about those layers, the more I lo-” Buffy stammers, her eyes fly open wide.

Faith’s heart stops.

_What?_

She sees something like panic in Buffy’s eyes. Figuring it was just a slip of the tongue, and hating the implications of that, Faith takes pity on Buffy and gives her an out.  
  
“…the more you _learn_ just how much of a nutjob I am, right?” She offers, and smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

Buffy says nothing, and Faith can’t stand it. So she begins to untangle herself from their embrace, “Imma take a shower, or hit the gym, or something…” she starts, desperate to escape, not able to deal with Buffy telling her ‘she didn’t mean it’ or whatever she’s probably about to say. 

“Faith, wait…”  
  
“Nah, B, don’t sweat it. I shouldn't’a landed that sappy shit on you. S’all good.” Faith hedges, physically shaking her hands out as if that can somehow get rid of all her conflicting feelings. 

Buffy leans up, grabs Faith’s arm, pulls her back onto the bed. Faith instinctively reacts by pushing Buffy’s hand away and shifting her weight so she’s out of her reach. Buffy’s face flashes with annoyance, “ _Faith!_ Get back here, dammit!” Buffy’s voice is playful, but her eyes aren’t.  
  
Faith has to use every ounce of her strength to heed Buffy and not run away from the room. She shakes her head, unable to bring herself to look her in the eye though. _Why’d I have to go and make things weird?_

But when she does glance at Buffy, she sees her looking vulnerable, and Faith is reminded of the teenager she knew all those years ago.She wants to reassure her, to comfort her, but she’s too afraid. Afraid to breathe, afraid to move, or speak. _What are you saying, B?_

Buffy’s eyes shine wet in the dim light of their room. “Faith…I…”

“…B…don’t…” Faith hates the childlike words whispering from her mouth, unbidden and unwanted.  
  
Buffy grasps Faith’s hands in hers, and looks deep into her eyes. “…I love you.”

Faith can’t speak, all she can do is grip Buffy’s hands and stare back. This is raw, real, exposed - something she’s never experienced with anyone before. She’s petrified that this will all be some kind of cruel joke: that any second Buffy will lean back, laugh, and Faith will be kicked back into the dirt where she belongs.

What drags her out of this cycle of self-hatred, though, is what she sees in Buffy’s eyes; she realises that Buffy is just as scared and exposed as she is, and in that realisation all her barriers fall and her heart melts, regardless of the danger. All ideas of self-preservation go flying out the window when Faith sees that Buffy needs protecting. With that, it all feels very simple. Faith _has_ to reach out to meet her with the truth, or they both fall.   
  
“I, I love you too, Buffy.” Faith softly says back, her voice cracking slightly.

A second passes, Slayers linked by joined hands. Then, Buffy’s face breaks into a smile, prompting Faith to do the same. Tears are sliding down Buffy’s face, and she sniffs before throwing her arms around Faith’s neck, pulling her into a kiss. Faith eagerly meets her lips, wrapping her arms around Buffy’s waist.

For the first time in as long as she can remember, Faith doesn’t hear her own voice telling her she’s trash, or that it’s all going to go wrong. She doesn’t believe that Buffy’s lying to her, or that it’s all some horrible trick. The only thing in Faith’s mind are Buffy’s words replaying in her head. _She loves me. I love her, and she loves me._ Her mouth hungrily meets Buffy’s, motivated by so much more than just lust. Her heart feels full to bursting, full to the brim with feelings of warmth, safety and _rightness._ Faith’s never been so certain about anything: they were always destined to be together, and now they truly are. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a small note to say, I know this sounds like it has a finality to it that might make it the last chapter...but it's not ;)


	16. Chapter 16

The next few weeks are crucial - everyone at the Foundation is painfully aware of that. But Buffy has never been prouder of the people around her. 

After Laura’s process, Nadine and Willow are both offered help, or a couple of days to recuperate - but they both refuse, keen to just keep going and work the unmaking process on the remaining eight rogues in Safe Camp. Buffy is not subtle about how grateful she is for that decision.

Willow seems calmer so with each process that’s completed, she assures Buffy that she’s started sleeping again. The Slayer can believe it; her old friend has started to regain some of herself. Her eyes look brighter, her skin less sallow, and she seems to stand a little taller.

The process goes smoothly for all the other rogues, apart from one: Francesca manages to break out of her restraints and get a solid right hook at Kennedy before she’s captured again. But, one by one, the cells in Safe Camp are emptied.  
  
Where possible, the rogues are delivered back to where they were collected, with enough recollection of their former selves to pick up their old lives before they were called as Slayers. For Dana, this isn’t an option, Slayer or not, she is in need of significant support for her mental health issues. So, Giles arranges for her to be housed (at the Foundation’s expense) at the country’s top psychiatric facility. Some time later, the Foundation receives word that Dana is doing well, and has even started making friends with other patients. 

With a renewed sense of confidence and purpose, Nadine and Willow begin to conduct Sightings again, steadily resuming the work of locating new Slayers around the world. Life begins to return back to (what passes for) normal at Norton House.  
  
There’s just one remaining order of business that Buffy has to see to before she can relax: telling Angel, once and for all, to stay the hell away from the New Guardian Foundation. She’s got a plan, but she really wants to run it by Faith for her input before she feels ready to raise it with everyone else on the Board. 

This is on her mind one afternoon, as she is returning to her room after her regular Tuesday coffee date with Dawn. She and Buffy had started this weekly tradition after a heart to heart following Laura’s first unmaking. Buffy had, in truth, been feeling distant from Dawn, partially due to the love she was harbouring in her heart for Faith, and the fear of how Dawn might react to it. Now, with everything out in the open, and the knowledge that they have Dawn’s blessing, Buffy is determined not to neglect her relationships with anyone - least of all, her little sister.

The issue of what to do about Angel had been raised in a couple of meetings, but in truth, the Board members could not agree on the best course of action. There had to be an avoidance of declaring out-and-out war, even though many (including Buffy) had been baying for Angel’s blood after his _infection_ of Laura, and the deaths he’d caused. The reality is, Giles had pointed out, Wolfram and Hart are infinitely better equipped to handle an attack than the Foundation is. They also have an immeasurably large number of bodies who Angel would, no doubt, consider expendable. The Foundation needed and valued each and every Slayer they have; they could not and (more importantly) _would_ not be willing to risk any more lives for the sake of vengeance. This had calmed Buffy’s rage, he was right, of course. _Stupid Giles, with his stupid brains,_ Buffy had grumbled to herself.

But now, she replays through the logistics of her (probably really dumb) idea. But, if it _wasn’t_ dumb…it just might work. She bounces up the stairs and along the corridor to their room, hoping Faith is inside so she doesn’t have to start a wild goose chase to find her. She pushes open the door, calling, “Hey!” to see her girl, not lying on her stomach on the bed as she expected (Faith’s guilty pleasure for British afternoon trash TV now includes ‘Deal or No Deal’). Instead, Faith is dressed: black leather trousers, heavy boots, tight white tank top, denim bomber jacket and a chunky blood-red scarf to match her dark red lipstick.

Buffy shuts the door behind her, walks into the room. “Oh. What’s with the clothes? Are we not in official sweatpants time?”

Faith’s got a glint in her eye Buffy hasn’t seen for a while, as she strides up and plants a kiss on Buffy’s lips. “Not tonight, girlfriend. Got a surprise for ya.” She leans back, then looks Buffy up and down. “You’re gonna have to change, though.”  
  
Buffy furrows her brow, making a pouty face. “Wahhh. I thought we were all stay-inny tonight?”She was a little tired and had been looking forward to an evening lying in Faith’s arms.

“Trust me. You’re gonna thank me. Now get dressed!” Faith goes to Buffy’s wardrobe and pulls out a few things, sizing up options, dismissing some, before settling on some dark grey jeans and a black halter-neck top. She also fishes out a thick cotton checked shirt and a heavy jacket. “You’ll need this extra layer, it’s cold out.”  
  
Buffy wrinkles her nose. “Cold? You’re taking me outside where the _cold_ is? Faith, what’s going on?”  
  
Faith rolls her eyes, “Just get dressed, kay? It’ll be dark soon, don’t want to ruin my surprise, right?”  
  
So, Buffy does as she’s bid, then Faith takes her by the hand and leads her downstairs, through the lobby, then out to where a black VW hatchback with dark windows waits parked, gleaming in the dim evening light. Faith produces a set of keys from her jacket pocket and dangles them playfully from her delicate finger. “Get in, babe.”She presses the button on the keys and the car bleeps once.   
  
Buffy’s eyes widen, “You’re driving us? _Can_ you even drive?” she starts.

“Of course I can drive, B…as long as the _coppahs_ don’t ask for the paperwork to prove it…” Buffy cringes at Faith’s attempt at a British accent, watches as she struts around the bonnet to climb into the driver’s seat. “I’m _kidding,_ jeez, it’s all good, ok? Chill out!”  
  
Warily, Buffy gets into the passenger side. Faith turns over the engine, and the headlights blaze on, illuminating the grand old brick entrance of the house. She briefly presses her foot down, prompting a rev of the engine, raising a single eyebrow at Buffy playfully as she does. Buffy can’t help but laugh, “Suave, as always…” 

“Alright, alright, keep ya pants on, here we go.” Faith throws the car into gear and speeds them off down the driveway into the night.  
  
As they drive, Buffy glances around the interior of the car. “This…this is nice. Not yours though, right?”   
  
“Hell no, it’s the Foundation’s. Who knew they had sexy cars as well as the boring ones they do airport runs in!” Faith grins, her eyes on the road. She flexes her arms against the steering wheel and leans back into the driver’s seat. Buffy’s impressed that she knows how to drive a manual car. _Wonder where she learnt to do that…_ “I gave Rachel a little sweet talk and she fixed me up with the keys.” 

Buffy looks over her shoulder into the darkness of the back seat, spying a large black duffel bag. “Faith, what is in that bag?” she asks suspiciously.   
  
“Hey! No peeking, ok? You wanna ruin everything?” Faith scolds. Buffy raises her hands in a mock surrender gesture, and faces forward again as Faith drives. She can’t keep her eyes off her, though. _There’s something really damn sexy about how Faith handles this car_ …Luckily, Faith breaks her distracting chain of thought as she jabs some buttons on the dashboard and music starts playing. 

They chat with each other, Faith chiding Buffy every time she tries to ask for a hint as to where they’re going. After a some time, the narrow wet country roads turn into wider main routes, and then eventually they’re driving into the outskirts of a large town. _Maybe even a city?_ Buffy wonders, as they pass street lamps, illuminated shop fronts and groups of people moving about in the night.   
  
“OK, where are we? I’ve been really, really good but now I’d like to know what’s going on now please!” Buffy whines at Faith.  
  
Faith slows the vehicle, swings around a corner down a cobbled street, before finding a quiet place to pull up and park. “Well. You ’n’ me. We’ve been together what, good few months now?” Buffy nods, feeling a little anxious in the pit of her stomach. _Where is this going?_ “It occurs to me that, what with all the crazy Angel bullshit and the rogues situation… ain’t been much time for us to actually do something nice together. Something normal. You know?”  
  
Buffy lifts her eyebrows, “Faith…are you taking me on a _date?_ ”   
  
The brunette leans over and kisses her softly. “I am taking you on a date.” Buffy lets out a little squeak, she feels warm and tingly - excited.  
  
“Awww…I’m all…giddy! You’re the best.” Buffy beams, kissing Faith again. “But wait, why didn’t you let me dress up more? I coulda worn that dress that you like…”  
  
Faith’s eyes are glinting mischievously again. “What, you didn’t think I was gonna take you on a boring, lame-ass dinner date, did you?” She nods her head at the back of the car. “Grab the bag, gorgeous, take a look.”   
  
Buffy furrows her brow, before leaning over and pulling the (remarkably heavy) black holdall onto her lap. She unzips it. “What the…!”  
  
Inside the bag are an assortment of stakes, a crossbow, some throwing knives, a short sword and a hand axe. She looks up into Faith’s grinning face.   
  
“I got word that there’s been some wicked rowdy vamp action going on in the mean streets of Norwich recently. You and me, we’re gonna go have ourselves a good old fashioned patrol.”  
  
Buffy feels her predatory senses start to tingle, and it occurs to her just how _much_ she has been dying for a good slay. She finds herself grinning as well. “‘Something nice together, something normal?’” she quotes, eyebrow raised.   
  
Faith shrugs, “Well yeah, ‘nice and normal’ for _us,_ obviously.” She turns to get out of the car, rushing around to the passenger to side to open Buffy’s door for her. She makes a show-bow, offering her hand to help Buffy out. _She’s too fucking sweet. Who knew she could be such a loveable doofus._ Graciously accepting, Buffy allows Faith to pull her upright out of the low seat, then she hauls out the duffel bag and slings it around her shoulders. 

“Lead the way, babe.” Buffy realises she’s got a literal spring in her step as she follows Faith down the alleyway and across the street, away from a couple of bars and restaurants towards a dark expanse of open space. She watches Faith’s long tresses bounce as she walks in front of her, sensing the coiled-spring tension in her muscular body. It’s obvious that Faith is just as wired for this as Buffy is. _How long has it been since either of us got a good fight in and dusted some low-life vamps?_

They approach an iron fence, at least eight feet high, chained and padlocked. Faith casts a quick look over her shoulder before winking at Buffy, then launches herself effortlessly straight up and over. Buffy registers the sign on the fence: _Munsfield Cemetery,_ before she does a quick check for onlookers, then flips herself over the barrier to land solidly next to Faith on the other side. 

Instantly, the hairs on the back of Buffy’s neck start prickling, as she scans the surrounding shadows. “There’s definitely something in here…” She whispers to Faith, who’s opened the bag and is rummaging around through the weapons. She tosses a stake over to Buffy, then tucks a spare one in the back of her trousers.   
  
“Damn right. Got a tip from Willow, there’s a nest in one of these old crypts.”Buffy grabs the sword from the bag, as well as a spare stake and a knife. She’s not at all surprised to see Faith loading up the crossbow, shoving spare bolts into the holder. _She always did love the bows…_  
  
Once she’s finished, she nods at Buffy, and wordlessly they move together into the darkness. Buffy’s heart pounds in anticipation. She enjoys the feeling of her Slayer senses taking over; her hearing casting out far beyond normal human range, straining for any noise of footfall; her eyes picking out far away details in the gloom. In this state, she can hear Faith’s heart pounding next to her, steady and strong in the silence.   
  
_Wait, not silence.  
  
_ Buffy freezes, turning her head forty five degrees to the right, in the direction where she just heard an unmistakable noise. Faith has done exactly the same, having heard it too. _There it is again,_ Buffy thinks, the soft scrunch of a carefully placed foot onto wet grass. 

Without needing to say anything, both Slayers move as one, silent as barn owls in the cool night air. Before long, the outline of a tall figure is visible behind a low gravestone. The Slayers slow up, and watch as the figure lights a cigarette. As it takes a breath in to inhale the smoke, it’s suddenly obvious how there was no sound of breathing before. It turns its head, and Buffy sees a tell-tale glint of yellow in the catlike irises. _Hello, vampy._

Buffy is eager to jump in and start the fight, but doesn’t want to be stupid about things. She takes the time to properly look around, and comes to the conclusion this guy is on his own, for now. Once satisfied, she raises her eyebrows at Faith, who grins, waves her hand towards the vampire and silently mouths, ‘Ladies first’. Buffy drops the sword to the ground. She wants to do this the traditional way.   
  
“Hey, um, ‘scuse me?” Buffy calls out, breaking the silence and causing the vamp to startle. He looks around, obviously unaware that anyone had managed to sneak up on him. _Perfect. Time to play the annoying American…  
  
_ “Um, hey, I’m like, kinda lost? I was hanging with some students but I got, like, turned around, can you tell me where the nearest pub is?” Buffy adds a whiney tint to her voice, raises it up an octave, ramps up her So-Cal accent and really goes for it. She’s practically twirling her hair as the vampire approaches her, grinning.   
  
“Bit late for that now, sweetpea…” the vampire growls as it strides towards her. He’s a big guy, thick through the shoulders and over six feet tall. He walks straight up to Buffy, then extends a hand out to grab her around the throat. As he does, Buffy shoots her arm out and stops him in his tracks.  
  
“What kind of way is that to treat a tourist? No wonder everyone says you Brits are all grumpy.”She quips lightly, enjoying the shocked look in his eyes. With her other hand, she slams her fist into his face, sending him spinning back head over heels. He lands, crumpled, in the wet grass, before he’s back up in a flash and furiously charging at Buffy.  
  
Buffy feels herself invigorated and smiling as she deflects his momentum, then lands a series of bone-crunching punches to his jaw, temple, and finally his nose - feeling it cave in under her knuckles. “God this feels good!” She yells, seriously enjoying his confusion. “Doesn’t this feel good?” she asks him, before delivering a heavy roundhouse kick to his chest, sending him flying. “Guess maybe not for you…”

She’s impressed that he’s back up and charging again, growling. She kicks out his shin, then propels her knee into his skull, before grabbing him and throwing him headfirst into a gravestone, smashing it with the force of impact. Now, he’s flat on the floor and she has a clear opportunity to stake him - but she’s not done, and she allows him to get back up onto his feet.

She glances over at Faith, who is leaning casually against a stone pillar, the crossbow at her feet, smiling as she watches Buffy work. “Damn, B. If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were enjoying this.”   
  
“You can have the next one, I promise!”  
  
“You know I will!”

The vampire obviously thinks Buffy is too preoccupied talking to Faith, because he tries to rugby-tackle her to the floor. Unfortunately for him, Buffy’s anticipated this, and moves out of the way just at the last second, kicking him in the rear as he thunders past. Both Slayers laugh, enraging the vampire. “What the fuck’s going on??” he roars at Buffy, swinging for her head.  
  
“We’re Slayers, my guy, nice to meetcha!” Buffy breezes, before savagely grabbing his arm and snapping it, breaking bone in half. He cries out in pain, and she delivers a final punch to his demonic face, sending him staggering backwards. She can’t hold off any longer, and whips out the stake from her inner jacket pocket, plunging it into his chest. His final bellow carries into the wind as he explodes into ash.

Exhilarated from the kill, Buffy runs to Faith, grabbing the lapels of her jacket and shoving her up against the pillar, kissing her fiercely. Her tongue pushes against Faith’s, she feels a predatory pleasure hearing Faith release a little moan at Buffy’s assertive embrace.  
  
Faith breaks the kiss, gasping, “So…good date idea?”   
  
Buffy nods, going in for another kiss, “ _Best_ date idea…”

As things begin to get more heated, they’re interrupted by the familiar sound of softly approachingfootsteps. Someone or something is trying to sneak up on them. _Rude!_ Buffy thinks, forcing herself to put Faith down and step away.“This one’s all yours, ok?”  
  
Faith’s pupils are dilated with lust and excitement, as she looks in the direction of the intruder. Buffy almost feels sorry for the vampire. Almost. She allows herself to take a seat on a stone tomb, utilising the feeling of the cold marble against her thighs to cool herself down.

The vampire stalks into a view, a young woman. She growls at Faith, “Don’t stop on my account!” she jeers, her jaws practically salivating.

Faith turns her body to meet the vamp. “Nah, sorry honey, we’re exclusive, and three’s a crowd.” She leaps up and scissor kicks the vampire in her bumpy face, making her stagger backwards. Faith hounds her straight away, not letting up for a second, raining down a barrage of kicks and punches; the vamp has no time to recover. Buffy sighs admiringly, watching her girl let loose. _She’s magnificent_ , she swoons to herself, as Faith eventually pins the vampire to the floor, one of its arms in a hold, her boot on its neck.   
  
She reaches for her stake and plunges it home, sending the shrieking vampire to a dusty end.Buffy’s focus is broken by movement in her peripheral vision, she sees another vampire running away from them, presumably having just witnessed what happened to its companion. “Runner!” she yells to Faith, as she grabs the sword and breaks into a run after the escapee.

Faith scoops up the crossbow and follows, the pair of them pounding through the darkness, leaping over gravestones and fallen branches after the vampire. Buffy halts abruptly as she watches the vampire scoot round the side of a large mausoleum, then jump up and climb through a broken window. Faith draws in closer, whispering “Looks like we found our nest…” She looks to Buffy, a wild look in her eyes. “You ready?” she pants.   
  
“Fuck yeah.” Buffy breathes, and they move together to stand in front of the rotting wooden door of the crypt. It’s got some rusted chains across it, but Buffy knows it’s no match for a good kick. She counts silently with Faith, both of them standing side-on to the door, preparing to boot it down together. ‘3-2-1…’

The door explodes inwards with a bang, the wood splintering easily under the force of two Slayers. A quick count tells Buffy there are seven vampires in the dingy room, all of whom look distinctly panicked. Faith releases a bolt into the chest of one, dusting it immediately. She reloads, as Buffy gracefully summersaults into the room to bring her sword through the neck of another in one fell swoop. The skull doesn’t even get chance to bounce on the stone floor before it’s dust. Askinny vampire lunges towards Buffy, swinging wildly for her. She ducks out of the way, kicking it in the side then slicing off its head. _Four left…_

She sees Faith slam the bow across the face of a vamp who’s rushed her, then she pulls a knife and hamstrings it, rendering it unable to walk. She flows past it, staking it in the back as she passes. The remaining three vampires are, wisely, standing back to back at the far end of the mausoleum. They snarl and spit, before one bravely roars and rushes at Buffy. She ducks, but it actually manages to land a punch and knock her sword out of her hand. _Well, can’t make it too easy I suppose…_ but she’s enraged, so she pummels the snot out of it for a few seconds before putting it out of its misery with her stake.

She looks over to see the other two attacking Faith at once. Any concern she feels is quickly allayed, as Faith blocks their blows expertly - barely breaking a sweat. She grabs the head of one vamp and surges it forward into the oncoming path of the other one, leaving them both stunned. In one smooth motion, she punches her stake through the chest of the one she was holding, then throws it with perfect accuracy, straight into the heart of the last vampire as it makes a run for the door.  
  
Buffy coughs due to all the vamp dust kicking around. “Two of us, seven of them. They didn’t stand a chance.”   
  
Faith dusts some ash from her jacket, “Man, I coulda gone for another seven, how about you?”  
  
Buffy shrugs as they collect their weapons and leave the crypt. “I dunno, I like to end these things on a high. But maybe another couple would have been ok…” She smiles at Faith, “This really was a great idea, thank you.” She interlocks her fingers with Faith’s as they walk back through the quiet graveyard. 

“Hey, it’s no big. And, just so you know, I’m not a complete monster. I found us a nice Vietnamese place not too far from here, figured I could treat you to a nice boring dinner as well.”  
  
Buffy bounces, excited, “Violence _and_ food? This really is the best date ever!” She swings their arms as they walk. Back at the iron fence, they replace their weapons in the bag. Buffy turns to face Faith. “I never knew I could be so happy…and so much of it is down to you. I need you to know that. It’s like, all the different parts of me make sense now.”   
  
Faith’s dimples come out as she smiles softly, “You’re tellin’ me. I didn’t know it was _possible_ for things to be this good. Kinda scary, you know? Now I got so much more to lose…”   
  
Buffy raises a hand to brush her cheek, “I know. But, I’m not going anywhere. I love you, remember?”  
  
Faith wraps her arms around Buffy’s waist, “I love you too, Buffy. Now, let’s go get some food - and then, I am taking you home and we are finishing this date off properly.” Her dark eyes cast down Buffy’s body in a way that makes Buffy’s heart skip a beat. “I got plans for you later.” she purrs. Then, leaving Buffy seriously eager to know more about what those plans might entail, Faithflips up and over the fence. Buffy follows, her stomach growling and her underwear more than a little wet. 

———————————————————————

Later in the restaurant, Buffy explains her plan for a showdown with Angel to Faith, who listens, her eyes wide as she devours her spicy noodle dish.   
  
“…So, what do you think?” Buffy asks nervously, before taking another massive bite of her spring roll.  
  
Faith chews hastily, swallows, before replying, “Honestly? I think it’s fucking insane. But good. Doubt he’ll feel so all-powerful if we pull it off. _When,_ ” she corrects herself, gesturing with her chopsticks,“ _When_ we pull if off. It sounds like a lotta mojo though, do you think Willow and Nadine can do it?”   
  
Buffy takes a swig of her wine, “I think so? TBC. I kinda floated the idea past Will the other day and she seemed super exited about it. She started reeling off names of a few magical texts with spells that might work…so, yeah? From what I understand, yes there are spells involved, but the actual hard work needs to be done by us.”   
  
The Slayers have worked their way through an awful lot of food - there are enough empty bowls and plates on the table to suggest they were sitting with a party of three other people.

“Then yeah, let’s do it.” Faith nods, grabbing a Bánh bao.   
  
They finish up eating, spend some more time talking about the plan, then the waitress approaches to politely inform them that it is approaching closing time. “Wow, I hadn’t realised it’d gotten so late…” The time really has flown by, Buffy has been so entranced by the beautiful food and the beautiful woman in front of her she’d barely noticed the hours speeding past.   
  
“Let’s take this party home, shall we?” Faith grabs a few more spring rolls to go, then they both pay and thank the staff. In the car, speeding back through the night towards Norton House, Buffy relaxes in the passenger seat, Faith’s left hand entwined with her right.  
  
“Faith - this has been such a perfect night…much-needed fun. Thank you.”  
  
“I had fun too, babe, damn it felt good to let loose on those suckers.”  
  
“It’s not just that,” Buffy clarifies, “You made me feel like a person who’s…loved. You know? You made plans, you whisked me away, you fed me amazing food,” Faith chuckles as Buffy continues, “which will _always_ win you points, by the way…I dunno, I’m not explaining it very well. I guess, I just haven’t felt _looked after_ by anyone for a really long time. I forgot how nice it could feel.” 

Faith squeezes her hand, “Yeah well, get used to it. Turns out, I forgot how nice it can feel to have someone to look after. Well, I guess not _forgot_ , seeing as how I never had it before. I get what you’re tryin’ to say, I think.” She sighs, “I never felt looked after by anyone before. To be fair, I never gave anyone a chance to get that close…” She glances away from the road to Buffy “…but I trust you, I _know_ you, so…this is different.”  
  
Buffy smiles, “I want to look after you as well, ok? You gotta let me pamper you sometimes.”  
  
“I gotta figure out how to do that…” Faith chuckles.

Once they arrive back at home, Faith parks the car out front, then hands the keys to Rachel, exchanging some friendly chat with her as they pass through the lobby. As soon as they’ve closed the bedroom door behind them, Buffy grabs Faith and kisses her - all their sexual tension reignited from the aftermath of slaying. Faith tries to push Buffy down onto the bed, but Buffy’s having none of it.  
  
“We said…” she breathes, open-mouthed, teasing Faith, “we _said_ you gotta let me pamper you…”Faith half giggles, half whines against Buffy’s kisses, Buffy continues, “So, that’s what’s gonna happen now…” She pushes Faith onto the bed gently, pulling the jacket off her shoulders, kissing her deeply. “You’re gonna let me thank you properly for taking me out on our date…”  
  
“Yes ma’am…” Buffy allows herself to feel smug as Faith stops her half-hearted protests, and finally submits to Buffy’s control.


	17. Chapter 17

Angel slams the polished handset back into its cradle. He braces his hands against his oversized mahogany desk in an attempt to reduce his annoyance after that call. It wasn’t massively important; just some nameless nobody from finance reporting that an even _lowlier_ nameless nobody from finance had been caught trying to sneak confidential information out of the building. Angel had been assured repeatedly, and fervently, that this person would be dealt with, and that they’d discover very quickly whether any further documents had been removed, and to what end. 

This happened on a fairly regular basis at Wolfram and Hart. Angel had been informed that it occurred _less_ often now that he was in charge. He supposed, among a staff of hundreds of people, dissenters were inevitable. Still, the idiot would be need to be made an example of, he’d instructed the woman on the phone. ‘Make sure his colleagues all know what he did, and what happened to him.’ Angel had barked down the phone. _No point punishing a traitor without doing it loudly, and visibly.…_

The man would be tortured extensively, no doubt. Angel made a mental note to instruct Ezekiel to have one of his boys conjure something particularly foul to loosen the guy’s tongue.

Angel moves over to the full-length windows of his penthouse office, staring down at Los Angeles spread before him. Enjoying the non-lethal sun on his skin through the specially-treated glass always cheers him up a little. He closes his eyes, and allows himself a few seconds of quiet. He tries not to think about his full afternoon of appointments, then the evening, scheduled to be spent with the inner Circle of the Black Thorn members. _Tiresome bores, the lot of them…_ he grumbles to himself, before trying to regain the calm he seeks.

“Gosh, you look tired…”

A familiar voice pierces the silence, sending Angel spinning around. He blinks, not quite believing what he’s seeing.

“…you working too hard, hon?” Buffy tilts her head, a faux-concerned look on her face.   
  
“How did you…wh…where did you come from? How’d you two get up here?!” He snaps, furious with his security team.  
  
“Wasn’t all that difficult, surprisingly. You’d’a thought whatever goons you hire to keep you safe might consider it a priority to keep out Slayers…” Faith drawls, her eyes fixed on Angel. 

Angel realises his fists are clenched, he’s instinctively moved into a defensive stance. He glares at the two women who stand in the centre of the room. Trying to get a grip on his own confusion, he forces himself to relax his posture.  
  
“Well, I guess now that you’re here, I should just enjoy the pleasure of your company….been a while since we all hung out in the flesh…” He moves around to the phone, “Can I get you _ladies_ anything?” He picks up the receiver, fully intending to dial security.   
  
“Put that down, Angel, we aren’t armed, we’re not here to fight. We just need to talk to you.” Buffy quickly interjects, taking a step towards the desk. Angel watches as she spreads her hands and turns around. As she says, she doesn’t appear to be armed. She nods at Faith, who does the same, albeit with a smile through gritted teeth fixed to her face as she turns.Angel places the phone down.   
  
“Alright. I guess maybe you aren’t stupid enough to try anything in here. You know you’d never get out alive.” Angel hisses, perching on the corner of his desk. “I’m listening. Talk. But, please know that if one of you makes a false move, I have no qualms about snapping your necks.”

_That oughta get a reaction,_ he thinks to himself, but Buffy just tenses her jaw before she continues.   
  
“You want the rogue Slayers for Wolfram and Hart. You made that very clear, the night you raped the mind of that little girl.”   
  
Angel twists his mouth, “Please. That’s such a gross way of putting it.”   
  
“That is what you _did_.” Faith snaps softly, then relaxes as Buffy sends her a silent look. She quietens and calms herself, Angel notices with interest.

“You killed three innocent women. Your message was received.”Buffy finishes.   
  
Angel grins at the corner of his mouth, “So, you’ve come here to discuss my offer of payment then, to take them off your hands? Well, bad luck, girls, the price has dropped significantly now, seeing as you were too dumb to take it before. So now, you get nothing. Nothing, except me removing the problem for you. Out of sight, out of mind, right?” 

He’s disturbed to notice that Buffy is smiling slyly.   
  
“Guess again, CEO Douchbag.” Faith taunts, crossing her arms across her chest.   
  
Angel pauses, his patience running thin. “What is this?” he growls.

“There is no _problem_ anymore, Angel. No more rogue Slayers.” Buffy purrs, pacing steadily towards the windows, holding her hands casually behind her back. “Nobody you can take from us, nobody you can _use_ for yourself, no loose canons for you to turn on whoever you wanna turn them on.”  
  
Angel feels anger flaring through his veins like acid, his teeth clench as he tries to maintain his composure.“I’m almost proud, Buff - you tellin’ me you finally grew a pair and killed them?”  
  
“Jeez, Angel, you really are a piece of work.” Faith sneers.“Of course we didn’t kill ‘em. We ain’t like you.”   
  
“Okay, Faithy, well, enlighten me, please.” Angel stands off his desk, pacing around to the other side and slumping into his seat. “And could you get on with it? I really do have a lot of meetings to get to with people who are _actually_ important…” He’s trying to push his bravado, but really, he doesn’t like the confidence his surprise visitors are exhibiting. It’s making him nervous, though he tries his best not to show it. “What, did you ship ‘em off to the jungles of Borneo? Send ‘em to another dimension? _What?”  
_

Buffy turns to face him, a gentle smile on her face. “Simple. They’re not Slayers anymore.”  
  
His jaw clenches, his rage tinged with bitter disappointment.“That’s impossible…” he snarls, unable to keep the emotion out of his voice. “No way your pathetic gang of circus magicians could muster up that kind of power.”  
  
“You sure about that?” Faith tilts her head, “He seems pretty sure about that…” she looks at Buffy, who shrugs.

“Ezekiel told me -” Angel starts to yell, but Buffy cuts him off, quipping to Faith,

“Guess he’s got some bad intel…You know, Angel, first we show up your security force, then we prove your pocket warlock wrong; maybe you wanna think about running some employee reviews round here.”

Angel wants nothing more than to break every bone in their smug, holier-than-thou bodies. To think he ever felt _anything_ for either of these people makes his skin crawl.

Faith uncrosses her arms, shrugs, then shoves her hands in her pockets. “You see, we realised the best thing we could do was remove the temptation from in front of you. Like training a dog, you know? You’re not gonna beat him in a fight - so don’t try. But you take away the _reason_ for his unwanted behaviour…he stops being a threat…” 

“…and if the rogues aren’t Slayers gone off the rails, they’re just _people_ gone off the rails…Wolfram and Hart has no reason to ever bother them again.” Buffy finishes.   
  
Angel has had enough. He stands from his desk, picks up the phone and hovers his finger over the button to summon his security force. “I press this, there’ll be guards through that door in five seconds,” he smiles, “So my guess is, you’ll be dead in ten.” He tilts his head, “Maybe twenty, I mean, you _are_ both Slayers… So wherever you’re going with this, make it snappy.”

He watches as Buffy faces him, fixing her cold eyes on his. He’s seen that stare before, but not for many years. “You don’t ever intrude on New Guardian Foundation matters ever again. Not you, not Wolfram and Hart. You stick to your lane. We will continue our work, we will not stop protecting these Slayers. If you ever, _ever”_ she moves towards his desk now, “try anything against us again, we will come for you, Angel. You’ll be dust before you know it. You need to understand that.”  
  
Angel watches her, feeling contempt and disbelief. _“_ When the hell did you decide to step up? Who the hell do you think you are?” he spits, furious.

Faith steps forward as well - “She’s Buffy fucking Summers. Her, me, _we_ \- all of us at the Foundation - we got more heart and power than you’ve ever given us credit for. That was your mistake, Angel. Don’t make it again.” 

Angel sneers, “Right. You know what I got? Multimillions of dollars and the ability to kill anyone with a the stroke of a pen. _You - can’t - touch - me_ , either of you.” he spaces his words for emphasis. “Sorry to disappoint…”

“Not a problem.” Buffy retorts, before taking Faith’s hand and kissing her right in front of Angel’s desk. It’s a brief, passionate kiss, but it’s enough to floor Angel.  
  
“Well…” he stammers, “…didn’t see that coming. Never figured you for a dyke, Buff. Faith, I’m not exactly surprised, but you…”   
  
“Nice. Very anger-inducing. Is that the best you can do, Angel, really? Name calling?” Buffy chides.   
  
“If the best _you’ve_ got is idle threats and making out in front of me, frankly, I’m disappointed. I mean, maybe if you’re here to talk threesomes, I’m listening…”  
  
“Enough of this crap.” Faith snaps. “We got more than that, you asshole.” She nods at Buffy, who pulls a small velvet bag from her pocket.As she does, Angel pushes the button to summon his security forces.   
  
“The fuck is this?” Angel scoffs at the sight of the bag, as five enormous goons burst through the door. He holds his hand out to stay them off, his curiosity peaked.   
  
“Oh just something one of our ‘circus magicians’ cooked up.” Buffy replies, completely undeterred by the appearance of guards. “Wanna see?” she asks, all innocence.  
  
She unties the cord at the top of the bag and tips it upside down. All of a sudden, the room is filled with a dazzling, blinding light. Angel screams, feeling his skin start to burn and blister away.   
  
“ _No_! How did y… _sunlight_??” he yells, desperately trying to cover his face with his arms, but it’s no use; the light is all encompassing. His guards shield their own eyes, dazzled and helpless. Angel feels it blazing into his eyes, ears, nose, scorching and searing as it does. He’s engulfed in flame, it enters his mouth as he screams. Then, after a couple of excruciating seconds, all at once, it’s over. Everything stops.  
  
He lies, quivering, on the plush carpet of his office, sobbing and shaking.  
  
“I…Buffy…what…. happened?” he blubs. He sees his security looking back and forth at each other, awkwardly uncomfortable, not knowing what to do at the sight of their boss weeping on the floor.  
  
Buffy and Faith crouch down next to him, right up in his face. He’s powerless to do anything, unable to forget the feeling of burning up, his skin melting. 

“That’s a taste of what we _could_ do to you, very easily. Luckily for you, this one was just a glamour.” Faith murmurs softly.

“Hurts, doesn’t it? Feels real. That’s Willow’s little present for you today. She says hi, by the way.” Buffy follows. “Make no mistake, Angel, you come near the Foundation again, the next time we do this, it _will_ be real. Your knuckleheads here won’t be able to help you.”  
  
As they move to stand and leave, Angel pulls himself together, his rage boiling. He lunges towards Buffy, his hand swiping for her throat, desperate to rip her apart there and then. But, his hand passes through - nothing. His momentum carries him forward and he stumbles onto the floor. Perplexed, he rights himself, the two Slayers watching him with amused expressions on their faces.  
  
“Man, he really _doesn’t_ know what to do with his hands, does he? You were right, babe…” Faith purrs to Buffy, linking her arm through the blonde’s.  
  
“ _What is this?”_ Angel screams, as he aims a vicious punch at Faith’s head. His fist soars right through her, the air rippling slightly as it goes. 

“Turns out, we can work a little astral projection! Neat, huh!” Buffy’s smiling face seems all too real in front of him.   
  
“But, I can _smell_ you…” Angel mumbles in disbelief.   
  
“That’s the difference between this and the glamour. I think, is that what Willow said?” Buffy asks Faith, who nods.   
  
“Anyways, I feel like we’ve made our point here. Right, Angel? You get it, yeah?” Faith demands.  
  
Angel can’t believe he’s fallen for this, can’t abide how much he’s been made a fool of in his own office, in front of his men. He slumps on the floor, leaning heavily against his desk. He’s too furious to answer. 

“He gets it.” Buffy addresses to Faith. “Let’s leave him to…whatever this is.”  
  
“You got it, babe.” Faith leans in and kisses Buffy lightly on the lips. Angel feels his stomach lurch with a mixture of jealousy and disgust. He opens his mouth to throw a poorly-chosen insult at them, but he doesn’t get chance. Their features become iridescent for a second, before they just vanish, as if they were never there.

Angel dismisses his security with an angry shout, “Nice job boys, what the _hell_ do I pay you people for?” But once they’ve slunk away, he sits at his desk, stares out of the window, then sags into his chair, overcome by abject humiliation.

———————————————————————

*Six months later, somewhere on the Norfolk coastline*

“Goddamit, B, time out!” Faith yells, embarrassed at finally having to admit defeat. She stops, her chest heaving, bending over to prop her arms up on her thighs. They’ve been out jogging together for the better part of an hour along the beach, and Faith is beginning to tire.   
  
“Maybe if you finally cut out those sneaky cigarettes you think I don’t know about, you’d be able to keep up!” Buffy’s smug voice is singsong as she bounds back - but Faith can tell she’s exhausted as well, even if her lung capacity is slightly better. 

“Knock it off, princess Perfect.” Faith growls, standing again, brushing a few loose strands of sweaty hair from her own face.  
  
The wind blowing in from the sea to the east is biting, even in Spring. As Faith enjoys it cooling her skin, it whips against her ears and makes her head sore. She wipes sweat from her face again, “God, I hate jogging…I’m such a hot mess…” she whines.  
  
Buffy scoots closer to her, taking her sweaty face in her hands. “Me too!” she laughs, then rubs her own moist forehead against Faith’s.  
  
“Eurghhh, Summers!! Gross!!” Faith laughs, only half kidding. She tries to push Buffy away but this only encourages her, and she wraps her damp arms around her.  
  
“You telling me you’ve had enough?” Buffy chides, “‘cos, to be honest, I have,” she laughs. “I wanted to stop about two miles back.”   
  
“Me too! But I really didn’t want to be the one to give in first…” Faith admits, her heart rate returning to normal. “D’you think we’ll ever stop trying to out-do each other?” she giggles.

Buffy shakes her head, “Probably not,” then she releases Faith and stretches out her legs, one after the other.

“Well, fuck this then, let’s head back. I need a cup o’ tea…”  
  
“Since when do you drink tea?” Buffy asks disbelievingly, as the pair turn to walk back along the sand dunes towards Norton House.  
  
“What? It’s good! Calms you down, warms you up. Giles actually makes really good tea, way better than the crap we have in the states.” She shrugs, “Plus, you know, when in Rome…”. 

“Ugh, nope. Give me coffee any day. And they just _don’t get_ filter coffee over here, it’s never the same…”.   
  
Once home, showered and changed out of their lycra running gear, they head down to the meeting room, where the rest of the board has gathered. There’s a lightness to the mood, Faith thinks, as they walk in to hear Xander and Andrew laughing, _probably at some nerdy-ass Star Wars reference Harris just made or something…  
_

He and Nadine have been seeing each other for a little while, and it seems to be going well, Faith thinks. She gets the impression that Nadine is absolutely holding all the cards in terms of the speed of their relationship, but Xander looks to be stepping up and actually acting his age… _well, most of the time_. Nadine sits with Kennedy and Willow, deep in some private conversation. They look up as Faith and Buffy enter the room, taking their usual seats at the table - Faith’s with Buffy to her left at the head of the table, and Willow to her right.

Willow smiles at Faith as she sits next to her. Faith nods at Kennedy and Nadine, back chattering animatedly with each other, “They seem like best buds now!” Faith murmurs to the redhead.  
  
“Yeah, Kennedy’s actually kinda taking an interest in magic, Nadine’s got such a good way of explaining things.” Willow responds, looking proudly at her girlfriend. “It’s since Nadine’s been taking on more of the Sightings, means I have more time for Ken, and she worries less.” She leans in closer to Faith to whisper conspiratorially,“And when she’s not worrying, she’s less of a cranky-head!”  
  
Faith nods, “Yeah, gotta say it’s been the same for us. B’s so much fun at the moment - guess maybe it’s cos I’m not being such a pain in the ass either…”  
  
Willow scrunches her nose slightly, “I dunno about that…” she jokes, as Faith gently swats her arm. 

The meeting eventually begins, and Faith finds herself feeling refreshed by the fact that it’s just usual boring, every-day topics being discussed. There’s some maintenance work needed in the gym; there’s more demand for vegan options in the canteen; there’s been a small vamp uprising in Sri Lanka which is now under control, thanks to the Slayer and her team stationed there…all good stuff, all calm. Faith takes a second to appreciate the fact that it feels a world apart from the meetings they were having at the back end of last year.She glances over at Giles, even _he_ looks a little bored, which she finds oddly comforting.

At the end of the meeting, as everyone is milling around and making their ways out of the room to get on with the day ahead, Willow hops over to Buffy. “Hey, wanna go for a walk?” she beams, “It’s a nice day out, we could _take the air.”_ she puts on an affected posh accent and raises her eyebrows.

Buffy smiles back, “That sounds great. Although, not too fast ok? My legs are still tired from this morning.”

Xander’s overheard, after he’s kissed Nadine goodbye he pipes up to Willow, “I’m down for a little sunshine and fresh air, I’ve heard it’s very fashionable this season.” he grins.   
  
_That’s my cue to make myself scarce,_ Faith thinks, but doesn’t feel resentful about it. She’s glad Buffy still has this closeness with Xander and Willow, after all these years and all they’ve been through.  
  
“Have fun. B, I’ll catch you later on?” Faith kisses the back of Buffy’s hand, then starts to turn to leave.  
  
“Aren’t’cha coming with, Faith?” Willow asks, to Faith’s surprise.   
  
“Figured you guys wanted to catch up, Scooby-style, you know? It’s cool…” Faith wrings her hands self-consciously. Even with everything that happened in Sunnydale, everything that’s happened since, she knows her place. That old, familiar voice still hisses in the back of her mind. _Outsider. Murderer. Loser. That’s all you’ll ever be to them._

Xander sidles up to her, “Come with, Faith. You gotta accept it sooner or later…you _are_ a Scooby.”  
  
Caught off guard, Faith searches his face, waiting for a punchline, but he just smiles kindly. She looks to Willow and Buffy, Willow is grinning and quietly chants, “One of us, one of us, one of us…” 

She can’t help herself, Faith laughs, trying not to get overwhelmed by the surge of happiness she feels in the pit of her stomach. It’s in roughly the same place as where Buffy shoved a knife into her, all those years ago. But now, as she walks around the gardens with her friends and her love, it’s like that scar on her skin doesn’t exist. She enjoys the soft contact of Buffy’s hand, laughs at Xander’s stupid jokes, listens to Willow’s animated chatting. They talk together about everything, nothing, and all the possibilities of the future.

The Spring sunshine is warm on her pale skin, and Faith _knows_ that she is loved, and safe. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all, folks! Turns out, writing endings is really hard. I was always going to insist on a happy ending for Buffy and Faith, because a) they fucking deserve it and b) there's real-world angst aplenty at the moment, and I'm sick of it. 
> 
> Thank you very much for reading! At the moment I don't know if I'll write anything else; I found it really hard to come up with a new fic idea for this fandom, there's so many amazing ones out there already. A million kudos to everyone else who's still writing Fuffy fic, I love you guys.


End file.
